The Phoenix King: Emerald Flames
by EthanCase
Summary: David Piermont is a student at Smeltings and friend of Dudley Dursley. But one day he awakens to find that he is on fire, and a Hogwarts letter is sitting on his table. Dumbledore is dead, Fawkes is missing, and Dave has just walked into the middle of a w


**The Phoenix King**

_1: The Phoenix Emerges_

Bright white flames erupted around Dumbledore's body. They rose high into the air and white smoke rose in strange shapes, dancing into the blue sky. Harry's heart skipped a beat. Was it his imagination, or had he seen a phoenix rise out of the flames and into the air? The smoke dissipated and the flames ceased. The joyful phoenix shape faded away.

The crowd remained silent in the presence of a great white tomb that had enveloped Dumbledore. Made of marble, it stood as a grim monument, attesting to the evil that was yet to come. Etched upon the tomb was a crest; a shield depicting a crowned phoenix, flanked by a lantern on each side, hanging from a scale that pivoted at the apex of the shield. A banner upon the crest read the words: _Rex Phoenicus_.

The crowd slowly began to stir as Fawkes' beautiful, yet dreadful song ceased. Harry looked to the sky and watched the phoenix fly away and out of sight.

Fawkes flew on for hours. He knew that he would find his new master soon. His heart would lead him on. He approached a small suburban home. This was the place. Fawkes was sure of it.

---

One Sunday morning, Harry and the Dursley's were all seated, eating breakfast. Harry was counting down the days until his seventeenth birthday, his last day with his horrid relatives. He already knew what he must do. First, return to Godric's Hollow, and then to seek out Voldemort's horcruxes, making time for Bill and Fleur's wedding of course.

There was an audible knock on the front door.

"Who the blazes would call at this hour, and on a ruddy SUNDAY!?" said Vernon angrily. "I will NOT answer that door!" He proclaimed.

The knocking continued. The sound was cutting through the otherwise pleasant breakfast like a knife. Vernon sat still resolutely, grinding his teeth, his face turning its characteristic reddish color.

"Only _your _people ever call on Sunday mornings," growled Vernon. "No manners at all."

Harry held back a retort. He wanted to spend his last month with the Dursleys in as much peace as possible. The knocking, however, continued.

"Alright! Alright! The freaks win again!" proclaimed Vernon, throwing up his hands. He got up from the table and stormed out of the kitchen.

"Who are you?" snapped Mr. Dursley, opening the door.

"Ummm… One of Dudley's friends fr-from Smeltings sir," stuttered a boy, taken aback by Mr. Dursley's harshness.

"Oh," grunted Mr. Dursley, his expression softening a bit. "Come in, come in, we were just having breakfast." The boy nodded and self-consciously entered the house and followed Vernon into the kitchen.

"Dave?" asked Dudley. "What are you doing here?"

"Ummm…" started Dave tenuously, "I know this is gonna sound kind of weird, but I'm actually here to see your cousin." Mrs. Dursely dropped her plate. There was a loud crash on the floor, followed by one of the most awkward silences Dave had ever endured.

All eyes were focused on him. Dave looked from Dudley, to Harry, to Mr. Dursley, and back to Dudley. He ran his hand through his short black hair nervously. Dave was tall, roughly six feet, 2 inches. He had short black hair and pale skin. Despite his height, he was very lanky. He was a member of a small group of people who followed Dudley around at school.

"Ummm…" said Dave, trying desperately to fill the silence, "I guess I should start from the beginning." He took a seat at the table, much to Vernon's dismay, and began his story.

"So, the night I came home from Smeltings, I had a terrible nightmare," began Dave. "I dreamed that I was on fire, and being attacked by this big orange bird. I woke up and found my mattress was on fire." Petunia gasped, Dudley cursed, Vernon's face began turning red, and Harry leaned in closer. Heartened by the fact that they were taking him seriously now, Dave continued.

"Naturally, I panicked. I ran out of the room and grabbed a fire extinguisher. The fire went out easily enough, though I had to spend the rest of the night on the sofa. The odd thing was that my entire bed had been engulfed with fire, with me in it, and yet, I wasn't burnt at all." Vernon's eyes narrowed; so did Harry's.

"And then two days ago, the strangest thing happened. A bloody owl flew through my kitchen window, and landed on the table. It had a letter, addressed to me, in its beak."

"Enough!" bellowed Vernon Dursley. Everyone's attention snapped to him. "I won't have any of that rubbish in my house!"

"But Mr. Dursely," pleaded Dave. "I'm telling the truth. I have the letter here!" He reached into his back pocket and brandished a letter written on heavy parchment. Written on the front of the envelope in emerald green ink was:

_David Piermont_

_Kitchen_

_Number 10 Fawkes Way_

_East Harriman_

_Hampshire_

Vernon lunged to seize the letter, but Dave was too quick and pulled it away. "Sir, I don't understand, it's just a letter."

"Leave him be," snapped Petunia, a little shaken. "David, continue your story." Dave took a minute to recompose himself, meanwhile, Harry was staring at his aunt incredulously.

"Thanks Mrs. Dursley. So as I was saying, I got this strange letter. It even had my kitchen on it. So I opened it up and there was this funny story about a school of magic. I thought it was a prank at first. It seemed ridiculous. But I remembered the fire, so I kept reading. It was well done. It had a list of books and supplies and everything. I was gonna throw it away, when I found another note in the envelope. This one told me to talk to Harry Potter as soon as possible. It took me awhile to figure out who that was, but then I remembered Dudley saying his cousin was named Harry. I figured Dudley was playing a prank on me, but I was curious, so here I am."

"You're right," said Vernon hastily. "It was a prank. Dudley wanted to lure you here to play a prank on you, but we caught on and put a stop to it. All of that strange business is just a joke."

"Strange business?" asked Dave quizzically. "How did you manage to train an owl?"

"Oh come off it," said Harry angrily, before Vernon could say a word. "You know if he ignores the letter he's just going to get two more tomorrow. Dave, if you'd like to come up to my room so we can talk without being overheard, I can explain."

Dave seemed reluctant to leave the safety of his table. He looked over to Dudley, who cowered under his gaze. That was even stranger. Dave had never known Dudley to cower.

"Something wrong Dud?" asked Dave. Dudley yelped a little and then shook his head. Dave remembered hearing about Harry. He went to a school for incurably criminal boys.

"I think it'd be better if I stayed down here," said Dave looking around. "Where there are witnesses." It took Harry a minute to understand what Dave was getting at.

"I don't go to a school for criminals," said Harry with uncharacteristic calm. "That's just a story my aunt and uncle tell people who ask about me. I go to Hogwarts."

"Then…" Dave started. "This letter is real then?"

"In private please?" asked Harry. Dave nodded and followed him up the stairs to his room.

_2: __Plunging into the Wizard World_

Harry's room was quite a sight to behold. It was almost completely bare, save some clothes and books strewn about the floor, and an open trunk lying in the corner. Dave leaned down and picked up one of the books. It read: _Standard Book of Spells: Grade Six_. A shriek erupted from the corner, causing Dave to twitch and drop the book. It landed with a hard thunk.

"Quiet Hedwig, it's alright," said Harry. Dave spun around to find a beautiful, white owl in a cage in the corner.

"No way," said Dave quietly.

"Shall I explain that letter to you?" asked Harry, who was now sitting on his bed.

"What? Oh… yea, I suppose."

"Hogwarts is a school for wizards," said Harry. Dave thought he must be joking, but Harry was keeping a straight face. "Usually, you get that letter when you're ten or eleven," continued Harry. "I guess your magic didn't surface till later. When a kid shows signs of magical ability, he is sent one of those. Hogwarts has magically gifted students from all over England."

"So it's real then?" asked Dave.

"Afraid so," responded Harry. "Personally, I love it there. Lots of people there just like us. It takes a little getting used to though. It might be weird for you especially, your six years behind."

"Are you going to help me then?" asked Dave.

"I suppose I can get you on your feet," said Harry. "I actually had some plans for this summer."

"What will my parents say?" asked Dave, thinking about Mr. Dursley's reaction to his letter.

"Dunno," said Harry. "I've never really had a family. I'd imagine they'd be delighted, I know my friend's parents are muggles, and they're very happy."

"Muggles?" asked Dave.

"Oh, sorry. Muggles are what we call people who can't use magic. The Dursley's are muggles," explained Harry. "You've got a lot to learn. But first, you should re-read that letter." Dave took out the first letter from the envelope and read it aloud.

"_Dear David,_

_I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A wonderful world of magic and mystery awaits you. Please send in your acceptance or rejection by owl before the 31__st__ of July. I speak for the rest of the Hogwarts staff when I say we hope to see you soon. Enclosed is your train ticket to Hogwarts. Term starts on September 1__st_

_Sincerely,_

_Filius Flitwick_

_Deputy Headmaster_"

"Then there is this other letter," said Dave.

"_Mr. Peirmont,_

_I know you currently attend Smeltings, a private school for non-magical individuals. One of the students there has a cousin named Harry Potter. It will be to your benefit if you seek him out at once. Your circumstances are unique and I'm afraid you will find yourself quite behind. Find Harry and show him this letter, he will help you get accustomed to our world, and get you set up with all the materials you'll need for school._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

_Here is a list of books you will need for your career at Hogwarts…"_ The letter went on to list a bunch of books and items Dave had never heard of.

"Sounds like you've got a rough year ahead of you," said Harry. "I think they plan to cover as much material as possible, to try and catch you up."

"Maybe I shouldn't go," said Dave. "It seems like I'm too far behind."

"I wouldn't worry," said Harry. "You'll be happy you went. Our world is much more fun than yours. Besides, you'll catch up soon enough. The basics are simple enough to master, especially for older students. You'll probably be able to cover the first three years in one."

"Think so?" asked Dave.

"If you work hard enough," said Harry shrugging. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, you'll be working harder than anyone else, but it'll be worth it."

"Alright then," said Dave. "I'll go. How do I send them my reply?"

"Here," said Harry, handing Dave some parchment, a quill, and an ink bottle, "just write a letter to them, saying you accept. Then I'll let you send it with Hedwig."

"Thanks Harry," said Dave. He went about writing his letter.

"I wonder what my parents will say."

"Well, it's too late now," said Harry, attaching the letter to Hedwig and letting her out through the window. "Take my arm, I'll take you to Diagon Alley."

"Where?" asked Dave, taking Harry's arm. Before Harry could give him a response, he felt his insides twist and turn about. Dave was overtaken by terrible nausea. When the spinning stopped, he found himself in a pub.

"Now technically," said Harry, "What I just did was illegal. I don't have my license to do that yet, so don't tell anyone."

"Huh? Oh, sure," said Dave, rubbing his temples. Whatever just happened made him terribly dizzy.

"Where are we?" asked Dave, recomposing himself.

"This place is called the Leaky Cauldron," explained Harry. "This is the link between the Muggle world and ours." He brought Dave into the back and to a brick wall. Taking out his wand, Harry tapped a few bricks. Dave jumped back in shock as the bricks moved to the side, forming an archway. There was an entire town behind it.

"No way," stammered Dave, breath-taken by Diagon Alley. "How can a place like this go unnoticed?"

"Magic," said Harry smiling.

The two of them walked up the street, towards the center of town.

"How am I going to buy my stuff?" asked Dave. "I don't have any money on me."

"If you pay me back, I'll lend you some," said Harry. "I've got more money than I can handle."

"You'd really do that?" asked Dave. "That's really nice of you."

"It's no big deal," assured Harry. "It's simpler this way." Dave nodded and followed along.

"Basically," explained Harry as they walked. "You can find just about anything here. This is one of the main places Britain. Just be careful when you're wandering around. There are some dodgy spots, and if you take a wrong turn, you'll land yourself in some trouble." Dave nodded and hung on every word Harry said. His eyes were wide with amazement as he walked down the street. Harry stopped in front of a store called Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"This is where my friends and I usually buy our robes," explained Harry. "A lot of people come here, so it's best if we stop here first and avoid the rush later." Dave just nodded some more.

"Hello dears," came a voice from the back room. "I'll be right with…" she stopped speaking upon seeing Harry. "You," she said, disappointed.

"I caused some trouble in her shop last year," whispered Harry. "I guess she hasn't forgotten."

"Hi," said Dave, stepping forward suddenly. "I just found out I'm a wizard and I don't have anything."

"So you're going to Hogwarts then?" asked Madame Malkin, who was no longer thinking about Harry.

"Yes ma'am," said Dave politely. "My list says…"

"I know, I know dear," said Madam Malkin sweetly. "I've been outfitting Hogwarts students for years. Come, come, step up onto the box." Dave stepped onto a wooden box, placed in front of a mirror. Malkin disappeared into the back for a moment, and came out with three black robes. She had Dave put on the first one.

"Oh my," she said, "You're quite tall. I'll just lengthen the bottoms a bit." She kneeled down and with a swish of her wand, the robes extended in length. She then reached into her pocket and took out a box of pins. She moved about Dave, pinning the robes in places where it needed to come in, swishing her wand in places where it needed to come out. After a few minutes, she finished pinning, and with a swish of her wand, the robes adjusted until they fit Dave perfectly.

"Excellent," said Madam Malkin, inspecting the robes one last time. With a swish of her wands, the other two pairs changed to match the one on Dave.

"That will be ten Galleons please." Dave looked at Harry, who drew ten large gold coins from his pocket and handed them to the woman. She smiled and hastily ushered the two of them out of her store.

"What exactly did you do last time you were here?" asked Dave, stuffing the robes into a bag.

"I had a row with another customer," said Harry, "and his mother."

"You pick fights often?" asked Dave.

"Only with Death Eaters."

"Who?"

"Oh, you don't know!" exclaimed Harry. He began explaining the current situation to Dave, whose eyes grew wider and wider with fear.

"Are we safe here?" asked Dave, looking around.

"We'll be fine here," assured Harry. "We just need to leave before nightfall. So we should move quickly." Dave agreed and they continued down the street, stopping in front of a dusty shop. In the window there was a dusty pillow with a single wooden stick laying upon it.

"This is Ollivander's," explained Harry. "By far one of the best wand makers ever. Unfortunately he's been missing for a year now. We think Voldemort has gotten him."

"So where can I get a wand?" asked Dave. Harry took Dave by the shoulders and spun him around. The store directly across the street had a bright new sign that read:

Tacitus's Wizarding Tools

"This is the new shop that's just recently opened. It's owned by a Greek named Tacitus. He seems like a nice guy, but I haven't seen his wands in action yet. The first-year students at Hogwarts, and you, will mostly be using his wands. He should do alright." Dave nodded and followed Harry into the store.

"Why hello there!" called a voice from the back of the store. A round, red face popped up from behind the counter. He hopped off his stool and came around to the front. He was roughly four feet tall and when standing next to Dave seemed even shorter than normal.

"I'm Tacitus," squeaked the man cheerfully. "Welcome to my shop! I take it you're here for a wand? It seems to be that time of the year!" Unable to keep himself from smiling at the funny little man, Dave nodded.

"I just got my Hogwarts letter two days ago," explained Dave. "I've never done magic before."

"Oooh, a late bloomer I take it?" asked Tacitus enthusiastically. He didn't wait for a response.

"Well, I've got great news for you! No experience necessary for buying a wand! The wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around! Now let's see…." He began rummaging through some boxes behind the counter. "Aha! Let's try this one. Holly and Unicorn hair!" Dave took hold of the wand, admiring its polished finish and smooth surface.

"What do I do now?" asked Dave.

"Just give it a flick!" said Tacitus happily. Dave shrugged and did as he was told. A poster on the window, detailing security measures, caught fire.

"_Aguiamenti!_" shouted Tacitus. A burst of water shot from his wand and dowsed the fire.

"Well now, that was hot! But not a good match. Let's try this one," he pulled out another wand. "Oak and Unicorn hair!" Dave gave it a flick and to his horror, a barrel outside of the store blew up, the broken pieces caught fire and fell down around the street.

"Explosive," said Tacitus. He quickly ran outside and repaired the barrel, extinguishing the remaining flames with his wand. "Sorry 'bout that!" he called out to the onlookers.

"Wands a little strong!" he came back in smiling and immediately yanked the wand out of Dave's hand.

"So let's see…" he thought out loud. "That one was too much power and not enough focus… Different core, and different wood I think." He rummaged through the boxes again.

"Aha! Here we go. Holly and Dragon heartstring!" Dave gave it a swish and the little hair Tacitus had, caught fire.

"Oho!" he yelped, dowsing his head with his wand. "Too strong!"

"How can you tell sir?" asked Harry, who had taken an interest.

"Well, if things start going amuck," started Tacitus, "that means that there is too much power being produced and it's spilling over into other objects. If something big and explosive happens then the core isn't focusing the magic properly. It seems that we are having a double dilemma." Tacitus returned to rummaging through boxes.

"Hmm… everything that has happened has been fiery… a phoenix core perhaps, for better focus… and maybe Cherry will control the power better… You're a big guy, we'll probably want a longer wand too…" Tacitus switched to a new pile of boxes. "Aha!" he proclaimed. "Fourteen inches, Cherry and Phoenix feather!" Dave took the wand and gave it a flick. Stars erupted from his wand and the room began to glow red and orange.

"Aha! Excellent!" exclaimed Tacitus. "You sir now have a wand!" Dave smiled and began to swish it around more.

"Hold it boy! Don't be doing that!" yelled Tacitus, alarmed, grabbing the wand out of Dave's hands. "Wands can be dangerous. Don't keep flicking it, something strange might happen. That'll cost eleven galleons by the way." Dave turned to Harry who paid the man. "Wonderful! Enjoy that wand son! Do marvelous things with it!"

"I will, thanks," said Dave as he and Harry walked out the door.

"Unfortunately, we'll have to wait on your books," said Harry. "Flourish and Blott's, hasn't got it's shipment in yet. Your letter came early. The other Hogwarts students haven't received their lists. The store won't have ordered everything."

"So what now then?" asked Dave.

"Well, you still need to buy some small things, we can take care of that quickly, and then I suppose I'll take you back to the Dursley's."

"There will be none of that," came a voice from behind Harry. The two of them spun around and found themselves face to face with a tall man with flaming red hair.

"Harry!" said the man. "I'm delighted to see you. I heard the darndest thing at the ministry, apparently someone not of age apparated in Little Whinging!"

"Oh, yes that was me, I'm sorry Mr. Weasley. I just wanted to make sure Dave here got his stuff for Hogwarts. He's only just gotten his letter you see."

"Really?" asked Mr. Weasley, getting off topic. "So you've only just received your Hogwarts letter?"

"Yep," said Dave nervously.

"How old are you?" asked Mr. Weasley quizzically.

"Seventeen sir."

"Seventeen? You're of age, and only just going to Hogwarts? Haven't seen a late bloomer in a long time. That's quite rare. Congratulations."

"Thanks sir," said Dave. "I'm David Piermont, by the way."

"A pleasure to meet you David," said Mr. Weasley. "I'm Arthur Weasley. I'm the father of Harry's friend Ron." Mr. Weasley rounded on Harry again, "So why are you apparating? You're not only breaking the apparition laws, but the laws of underage magic as well."

"I didn't know when I'd have a chance to help him out," said Harry. "I figured the ministry would be more worried about other things. I didn't know they were still checking that stuff."

"They're not," said Mr. Weasley, "but they are checking you. Do you know how frantic everyone got when they realized someone apparated into your house? We thought He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had stormed in!"

"I'm really sorry Mr. Weasley," said Harry, thoroughly shocked. "I didn't realize…"

"No you didn't," said Mr. Weasley curtly. "Oh well, what's done is done. How would you and your new friend like to spend the summer at our house?"

"That would be wonderful," said Harry happily. "Dave, this would be a great way for you to get used to our world."

"That would be cool," agreed Dave. "Let me just call my mom first and let her know." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Mr. Weasley's eyes went wide with interest.

"What's that? Is that a felly-phone? Where's the plug?"

"It's a cell phone. It works on a battery," explained Dave, taken aback by Mr. Weasley's strange behavior. "It doesn't seem to be working now though…"

"It's because we're in Diagon Alley," explained Harry. "Too much magic here. We should go back to the Leaky Cauldron. It should work there." The three of them headed back through the brick archway.

_3:__ Muggle Mothers_

"Hello?" asked a feminine voice. It sounded electronic and distorted.

"Hi, Mom?" asked Dave, hold the phone tightly to his right ear while covering the left.

"David?"

"Yea, it's me," said Dave. "Sorry, there's a bit of static, hold on, let me go outside." Dave, still holding the phone tightly, walked outside the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, onto the crowded London sidewalk. Mr. Weasley was following him, intent on learning the secrets of the cellular felly-phone.

"David, where are you? I've been worried sick!" crackled his mother's voice.

"I went to visit Dudley," said Dave loudly into the receiver, "I'm with his cousin in London right now."

"His cousin?!" asked his mother, sounding quite alarmed. "The criminal?"

"No, no," lied Dave. "His other cousin; the criminal still hasn't returned from school yet."

"Oh, okay," said Dave's mother, sounding relieved. "When are you coming back home?"

"Ummm…" He looked to Mr. Weasley.

"I can bring you home tonight if you wish, then pick you up tomorrow morning," said Mr. Weasley. "I'll bring Harry with me too."

"Tonight," answered Dave, nodding at Mr. Weasley. "But I'm not staying long. I have some excellent news!"

"Really?" asked his mother. "Can you tell me now?" Dave looked around. The busy London work day was jostling all around him.

"No, sorry, it's gotta wait till dinner tonight," said Dave. He looked up to Mr. Weasley. "Do you and Harry want to stay for dinner? I'll need help explaining Hogwarts to her."

"Surely," responded Mr. Weasley smiling.

"By the way Mom? Do you mind if I bring two people with me to dinner tonight? They're part of the surprise."

"That would be wonderful," answered David's mother. "When will you be home?" Dave looked up to Mr. Weasley.

"Ten minutes," he answered. Dave looked at him quizzically, but he just nodded.

"Ten minutes," said Dave into the phone. He was answered by a cacophony of static followed by the crackling voice of his mother.

"That soon!" she exclaimed. "Alright then. See you soon. Love you."

"Love you too Mom," said Dave, closing the cell phone and putting it back in his pocket.

"Terribly inefficient," said Mr. Weasley beaming. "Hard to hear what people are saying."

"It's better in other areas," said Dave. "I think all the magic was interfering with the signal."

"Signal?" asked Mr. Weasley puzzled.

"Yea," said Dave. He took out his phone and pointed to his antenna. "I speak into the phone, and the phone converts the sound of my voice into little electrical signals. The signals go into this antenna and turn into waves. Waves are like magic, I think…" He looked to Harry who shrugged, "Umm… well, you can't see them, but they're everywhere. Big towers placed all over the world pick up these waves and send them on to whichever phone you're calling. Then their phone converts those waves back into sound." Mr. Weasley's jaw seemed to be resting on the sidewalk as Dave explained the mechanics of cell phones.

"That's incredible," said Mr. Weasley. "Ingenious muggles are!"

"It's not all that different than floo powder," said Harry, chiming in. He paused to think a moment longer, "They just use waves instead of magic. But they work the same way I suppose."

"Incredible," muttered Mr. Weasley. "You don't suppose I could borrow…" Harry and Dave both shook their heads and Mr. Weasley changed the subject. "Well, it's time we head to David's house, where a lovely dinner awaits us! David, grab your things, and both of you grab my arms!"

"Shouldn't we disapparate inside the Leaky Cauldron, so muggles don't see?" asked Harry.

"Oh! Right!" said Mr. Weasley, his mind evidently still on the phone. The three walked back into the tavern and David collected his things.

There was a loud pop and the three of them disappeared.

---

"Hi, Mom!" yelled Dave, as he walked through the front door, Harry and Mr. Weasley following behind.

"David! What is this great news you have to tell me?" asked his mom, from the kitchen.

"I'll tell you when we're all eating," said Dave. He entered the kitchen with Mr. Weasley and Harry.

"Is dad eating with us tonight too?" asked Dave.

"'Fraid not,' answered his mother. "He's being kept at the ministry again. Bridge collapses, murders, missing children. It's been dreadful lately."

"Ah what department is he working in?" asked Mr. Weasley. "I'm in the ministry myself."

"Who are you?" asked David's mom.

"Oh! Of course, manners! I'm Arthur Weasley, and this is Harry Potter, Dudley's cousin. We were with your son David in London today."

"Oh, pleasure to meet you both. I'm Susan Piermont, David's mom, but you already knew that! My husband works in Her Majesty's Treasury. Boring work, but it pays the bills. What department are you in?"

"Well," said Mr. Weasley, looking to Dave, who shrugged, "I work in the Ministry of Magic."

"Magic? Is that a joke?" asked Susan quizzically, "Are you in research?" The oven timer went off. Dave set the table and Susan set down a large bowl of pasta.

"No, I'm the head of the Detect..."

"He's really in the Ministry of Magic," interrupted Harry.

"Mom, you better sit down," said Dave. She hesitantly took a seat at the kitchen table. Dave sat across from her. Mr. Weasley and Harry also took seats too.

"Last night, I woke up with my bed on fire," explained Dave. His mother gasped, but before she could say anything, Dave continued.

"I'm alright. But that's what's strange, I shouldn't be. Everything was on fire, but I wasn't being hurt at all. Then, I came down early this morning; I couldn't sleep, and found an owl with this letter standing on our table." He handed the letter to his mother, who read it quickly.

"It was just a prank," said his mother, failing to twirl some pasta around her fork. "There's no such thing as magic." Her eyes quickly glanced at Mr. Weasley.

"That's what I thought, but then I saw this second letter enclosed with it," said Dave, handing her the letter from McGonagall.

"So this is Harry then?" asked Susan, nodding towards Harry.

"Yea, it turns out that Dudley's dodgy cousin doesn't go to a criminal school at all. He goes to Hogwarts, a magic school," explained Dave.

"This is all very funny…" started Susan, but Mr. Weasley cut her off.

"This is no joke," said Mr. Weasley delicately, placing his fork down. "Magic really does exist." He withdrew his wand from his pocket, and Susan seemed to be ready to get up and run.

"Mom, its okay, just watch," said Dave. Mr. Weasley pointed his wand at a large wooden spoon on the counter.

"_Accio Spoon!_" The spoon flew right into Mr. Weasley's open hand. Susan gasped.

"It's just a trick, with strings, or magnets, or something," she stammered.

"Weren't you just using that spoon, Mom?" asked Dave. "Magic is real, that's why I didn't get burnt last night. I can do it too. This school is for people like me. I want to go."

"I don't know what you're all getting at…" said Susan standing up, "but this has to stop." She rounded on Mr. Weasley. "I don't want you speaking to my son. If your trying to get him involved in… in some kind of cult."

"Mom!" exclaimed Dave. "I assure you this isn't a cult! Magic is real!"

"Mrs. Piermont, we're telling you the truth," said Harry. Mr. Weasley nodded his head.

"Generally speaking, when a Muggle-born," he ignored her puzzlement at the word 'Muggle', "like Dave is informed he has magical talent, a ministry official who specializes in Muggle relations is sent. It seems unnecessary, since I'm here, but I can send for one of them if you'd like..."

"No, that's quite alright…" said Susan nervously. "So what if this magic's real? You're in your last year at Smeltings. You were going to go to the University," protested Susan. "Cambridge already said they'd accept you if you maintain your good standing."

"I can always go back to Smeltings if this doesn't work out," said Dave. "But I really want to learn about all of this." Susan still didn't look convinced.

"You work for the Ministry of Magic you say?" asked Susan. "If you're in the Ministry, why aren't you at work right now? Everyone else is. There is a catastrophe on our hands."

"That catastrophe is caused by magic too," said Mr. Weasley. "And I got off work at three o clock this morning. I had been working for seventeen hours straight. We are working even harder than the ordinary ministry, I assure you."

She turned back to Dave. "Cambridge… A bright future is ahead of you. Do you really want to throw it away for… this?"

"Yes, I do," replied Dave. Susan fell back into her seat, seemingly in shock.

"I can't believe this is happening…" she muttered. "Magic? When am I going to wake up?"

"Mom, go upstairs and look at my room. The mattress has been completely burnt away. Nothing is being made up. Magic is very real. You should be happy. I think this is wonderful."

"I suppose… but you're future…" Susan started to say, but Dave's expression stopped her. Sighing, she gave in, "How long are you staying?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow to live at Mr. Weasley's house. He has a son that's my age, and Harry will be there too. They are going to help me get acquainted with the magical world before I head off to school."

"It is your life to live, not mine," she finally said, sounding defeated. "Where is this school?" Dave looked at Harry who shrugged his shoulders. Everyone turned to Mr. Weasley.

"It's in Scotland," said Mr. Weasley. "The train to get there leaves from King's Cross station at eleven in the morning on September first. We'll make sure he gets there on time. I have two kids going to Hogwarts, plus Harry and another friend will be staying at my house this summer as well."

"You'll call me right?" asked Susan.

"I don't know if I can. I tried using my phone earlier today. Magic seems to disrupt the signal…"

"There are other ways of getting in touch," assured Mr. Weasley. "You aren't afraid of owls are you Mrs. Piermont?"

"Not really, no," muttered Susan. "Wait… owls?"

Mr. Weasley proceeded to explain as much as he could about the magical world to Dave and his mother. After about an hour, all the food was gone and Dave was getting restless.

"I'm really tired," said Dave standing up. "I think I'm gonna pack my things and head off to bed."

"What bed?" asked Harry, smiling.

"Oh! I forgot, mine's been turned to ash," said Dave, his shoulders drooping. I guess I'll sleep on the couch again.

"Nonsense!" said Mr. Weasley getting up. "I can fix it right up for you! Show me to your room." All four of them proceeded to Dave's room, where to both his and his mother's astonishment; Mr. Weasley was able to fix the bed with a quick flick of the wrist.

"I'll be around early tomorrow morning," said Mr. Weasley. "I would come a little later, but I'm afraid I have a lot of work to do." Dave nodded and with a loud pop, and a small squeak from Susan, Harry and Mr. Weasley disappeared.

4: The Phoenix is Born

Dave found himself in a large stone room, illuminated by a large, brass brazier in the center. The flames flickered joyfully in their brazen bowl, and he felt a comfortable warmth envelope him. The stone room was cold and empty, and he found himself moving in closer to the flames, enjoying their heated embrace. The fire flared out at him, tickling his palms and caressing his arms.

The faint sound of music echoed throughout the room. Dave strained to hear it. As he approached the flames it became more and more clear, and he felt himself being entranced by its song, as if it were warming him on the inside while the fire warmed him on the out.

Soon he was only a few feet from the flames. He peered into the fire, and into the bowl of the brazier. There was a golden egg within. He stared long and hard at the egg, contemplating what it was. The song seemed to be emanating from inside the shell.

Suddenly, a crack began forming on the egg's exterior. The music grew louder and Dave felt the temperature around him rise. Another crack was heard above the flickering flames as a second fissure formed on the egg's golden surface. A small beak began poking through the shell, and soon the egg hatched. In its place was a tiny bird clad in golden fuzz. It looked like a baby chick, but it was thinner and moved much more gracefully. Its beak was wide open, and now Dave knew the source of the magnificent song. Without thinking, he reached in and picked up the chick. To his astonishment, the flames separated as his arm moved in. He picked up the chick and brought it close to his face. The little bird peered at him through his tiny, round little eyes and stopped singing.

"Hey there little guy," said Dave, gently petting the chick on the head with a single finger. The chick cocked its head to the side, still staring at the strange creature before him. Suddenly, without warning, it lunged out and nipped him on the nose.

"Hey! That's not nice," exclaimed Dave, bringing his off-hand to his nose. The chick cocked its head to the opposite side and continued to stare at him, completely unfazed by his sudden movements. Dave stared at the chick, and noticed that it wasn't completely yellow anymore. Its fuzz was being replaced by feathers of crimson and gold, and he was sure he felt it getting heavier in his hand. The chick turned around and hopped out of Dave's hand, and back into the brazier, where the flames engulfed him.

Dave looked on in awe as the flames surged and the bird began to grow at an alarming rate. The flames seemed to cling to it and form into long, magnificent crimson and golden feathers. The bird looked at him from its nest within the flames and opened its beak. The beautiful song he heard before started again, but louder and more emotional than ever. Dave felt his very soul moving to the bird's flowing melody. As this happened, the fire surged up and began making shapes. Dave had to rub his eyes to make sure it wasn't his imagination. The shapes looked strongly like faces, none of which he recognized. The first face to appear was of a very old man. He looked at Dave up and down, gazing over a pair of half-moon spectacles that rested on the bridge of a rather crooked nose. He smiled at him and melted into the background; another face taking his place. A parade of faces looked upon him, some with shrewd, calculating looks, others with kind, almost sympathetic ones. Suddenly the music stopped and the faces disappeared. A loud shriek erupted from the brazier. Dave looked down just in time to see the crimson bird barreling towards him.

He awoke with a start. He was once again in his own bed. However, Dave knew something was wrong. He removed his face from his pillow, and to his horror, he found his bed was once again on fire.

He almost began to panic, but somehow he knew the flames wouldn't hurt him, just like last time. Tentatively, Dave put out his hand and touched the flames. They were pleasantly warm, and tickled his palm. Dave scooped up the dancing flame and found that he could toss it between his hands and play with it. He looked to his bed, which was completely ablaze. He got out of bed and with a great sweeping motion, scooped up all the flames into a bright bundle. He carried the flickering mass across the hall and into the bathroom and dropped the flames in the tub. They lingered for a moment, but without any fuel they quickly died into nothingness. Dave stared at his bathtub for what seemed like hours; happy the flames were extinguished, but saddened at the same time. When the flames died, it felt as if he had lost a friend. He suddenly found himself wishing for them to return.

He felt his body grow warm, and his palm began to tickle. He looked down, and to his astonishment, a small ball of flame had formed in his hand. Dave squeezed his hand shut and the flame went away. He then opened it again, and wished for a flame to form. He found his little fiery friend had returned almost instantly. br / 

"I must be dreaming," muttered Dave, amazed by his new found ability. "This can't be real."

Dave got little sleep that night. He returned to his room, and began playing with the flame. By experimenting, he found, much to his pleasure, that he could change the flames size and shape. He created archways of flame, spanning the distance between his two hands, he juggled balls of fire, he created long ribbons of crimson and orange that he could wave and spin, creating wonderful shapes in the air. He even found that he could make a flame linger in midair for a few moments. Using a single finger, he wrote his name in midair. A trail of fire followed his finger, forming the letters D-A-V-I-D. One by one they disappeared in the order they were written after a few seconds. br / 

When Harry knocked on his door, and then entered, Dave was still enthralled by his new power.

"Dave! Come on! Wake up! Whoa!" exclaimed Harry, awestruck by the flaming pictures that hovered in midair all around the room.

"Wha…?" asked Dave, losing focus. The flames all evaporated into nothing. "Oh, hi Harry!"

"What is this?"

"I don't know," admitted Dave. "I had a weird dream again last night, and when I woke up, I could play with fire. Watch!" He proceeded to form a ball of fire in his hand. He began tossing it from hand to hand. "Catch Harry!" He tossed it to Harry, who recoiled away.

"Ow,that hurts," said Harry. He inspected his arm and found a nice red burn had been left where the fireball hit.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I thought you could do it too!" exclaimed Dave. He put out his hand and the fireball flew to him.

"I've never seen anything like this," said Harry, his eyes wide with wonder. "You say you just found this power this morning?"

"Yea," said Dave. "Isn't it awesome?"

"That's one word for it," said Harry, still wincing from the pain in his arm. He pulled his wand out of his back pocket and gave it a quick swish. The burn slowly began to disappear. "Your stuff packed? Mr. Weasley's outside waiting for us."

"Oh! I completely forgot!" exclaimed Dave, scrambling to get his stuff together. Harry flicked his wand and clothing began emptying out of Dave's drawers into a large trunk Dave had pulled out from under his bed.

"Thanks Harry." Dave placed his newly purchased items from Diagon Alley into his trunk and closed it up.

He followed Harry outside where a car bearing the ministry seal was waiting. Mr. Weasley was in the driver's seat.

"Hello David! Wonderful day today!"

"It sure is, Mr. Weasley," said Dave happily, placing his trunk into the car. br / 

He ran inside and gave his mom a hug goodbye, and promised her profusely that he would write her constantly. He then hopped into the backseat and they were off to the burrow.

_5: The __Trio_

After heading west for roughly an hour or so, the car pulled up in front of a small home, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

"Well," said Mr. Weasley. "We're here. This is The Burrow. It's not much, but it does nicely." Dave's face betrayed a look of disappointment that made Mr. Weasley's ears turn red.

"It's a lovely home," said Dave, "but I was expecting… well… magic."

"Oh!" said Mr. Weasley, his spirit lifting. "Well, houses aren't magical… well… some are, but it's not the house, but what goes on inside the house that makes it spectacular."

"He's right," confirmed Harry as the three walked towards the front door of the burrow. "Especially since there are five wizards, you make six, living here."

"Actually, seven," said Mr. Weasley, beaming. "Hermione is expected to show up later today, she may have even beaten us here. She can apparate now!"

"Oh wow!" said Harry. "I completely forgot! She got her license!"

"What's apparate? You've said the word a few times now."

"What we did before," said Harry. "Disappearing and reappearing somewhere else. If not done properly, it can cause some problems, so you need to pass a test before you're allowed to do it."

"Like wizard driving?"

"Pretty much, but maybe less dangerous.," said Harry. They opened the front door and entered.

"Wait a minute…" said Dave, looking around. He stepped outside and looked at the exterior of the house, then walked back in. "Is it just me, or is it bigger on the inside?"

"It is," confirmed Mr. Weasley. "Not much, but we did charm the house to give us more room. We have a big family, and always seem to have guests." He nodded to Dave and Harry.

"Harry!" yelled a feminine voice from the other room. A red-headed girl, about Dave and Harry's age, ran from the other room and wrapped Harry up in a vicious embrace. They kissed quickly, and Harry turned to Dave.

"This is Ginny," said Harry. The girl turned to look at Dave, and promptly let go of Harry. Dave couldn't help but wonder if all wizard girls were as attractive as she was. Certainly with magic they would be able to make it so.

"Hi, what's your name?" she asked pleasantly, flashing a wonderful smile that was so innocent and charming, that Dave couldn't help but smile too.

"I'm Dave," he said, putting out his hand. She shook it, and then turned to Harry.

"I didn't expect you until you were seventeen," she said. "I thought Dumbledore had wanted you to return to your Aunt and Uncle's?"

"He did," said Harry, "but he never really said how long I had to stay there, and I think if I spent anymore time with them, I'd lose my mind." All three of them laughed. Dave had always thought that Harry was some kind of criminal who stayed locked in his bedroom. Dudley was always confident and tough, bossing other kids around at Smeltings. Dave began to wonder if Dudley bossed Harry around too. If Harry could do magic, Dave was willing to bet that Dudley avoided him like the plague. The thought of Dudley being afraid of another person made him smile.

"So, what's your story?" asked Ginny. The three of them were bringing Dave's things upstairs, to help move him in.

"Well, I had a weird dream, got caught on fire, and found an owl with a letter sitting on my table a few days ago. I've been up to my armpits in magic ever since," said Dave simply. He had grown tired of telling the story, as spectacular as it was.

"That's odd," said Ginny. "Not unheard of I suppose."

"That seems to be what everyone says," agreed Dave. "My biggest worry is fitting in at school. Everyone my age is going to know much more than me."

"It shouldn't be too bad," said Ginny. "If you want, we can help you out too."

"That would be great," said Dave, beaming. He was getting excited now. Especially after last night, he realized that an entire new world was opening up to him, and he was dieing to explore it.

"That's not all," said Harry. "Dave, wanna show her what you showed me?"

"Do you think I should go around showing it off?" asked Dave. "I feel like people will think I'm strange."

"That's been my whole life," said Harry. "But you can show Ginny." Dave shrugged and put down his trunk. He held up his palm and after a few seconds of concentration, a ball of flame formed in his hand.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Ginny, bending in closer to get a good look. "How did you do that?"

"Don't know," shrugged Dave, who began tossing and catching the little fireball. "I just woke up last night after another dream and I could do it." He made the fireball significantly bigger now and began tossing it between his hands. "Do you think it's weird?" he asked self-consciously.

"I think it's brilliant," said Ginny. "But it might be smart and keep it low profile for awhile; at least until everyone gets to know you first." Dave nodded and dispelled the flame. He moved his trunk to the center of the small room they had entered, and opened it up. He went to start putting stuff away.

"Don't bother," said Harry. "We got it." He and Ginny flicked their wands and Dave's stuff flew out of the trunk and began dispersing throughout the room. All this clothing found hangers, his books flew into a neat pile in the corner, and his wand flew to him. It hovered in midair until Dave grabbed it and put it in his pocket.

"That was awesome," said Dave. "When do I learn how to do that?"

"You will learn it all eventually," said Harry, grinning. "But now, you are going to meet everyone else." He turned to Ginny, "Have you seen Ron and Hermione anywhere?" Ginny flashed Harry a cryptic smile.

"Busy I take it?" asked Harry. Dave suddenly figured out what they were talking about.

"Very busy," nodded Ginny.

"We should interrupt them then," smiled Harry mischievously.

"I have an idea," said Dave.

---

Harry and Dave followed Ginny out to the garden; towards a wooden shed in the corner.

"They're in there," whispered Ginny. "They think we don't know about them being out here."

"Why not just snog in Ron's room?" asked Harry, quietly.

"Because mom keeps interrupting them," said Ginny. "If she knew half of what they do she'd flip." The three shared a stifled laugh and crept closer.

"What did you have in mind?" asked Harry.

"Watch this," said Dave.

---

Ron and Hermione were deeply locked in a passionate kiss. Ever since the two of them got together, Ron's kissing abilities had improved exponentially, and he no longer looked like he was eating Hermione's face; much to her relief. Ron was sitting on a bucket, with Hermione in his lap. His hands were freely wandering all over her, but had yet to travel to any specific areas. However, as the snogging continued, Ron's hands were getting braver. Ron slipped a hand under Hermione's shirt when there was a loud crack and the shed door blew off its hinges.

Hermione screamed, and Ron jumped up against the back wall. A massive skeleton of fire tore away what was remaining of the door and entered the shed, blasting pots and tools out of the way.

Hermione, recovered from the initial shock, grabbed her wand.

"_Stupefy!_" she yelled. A blast of red light shot right through the skeleton, and kept on going. Completely unfazed, the skeleton continued to move forward.

"_Aguiamenti!_" shouted Hermione. A jet of water hit the skeleton. Its right shoulder cackled and disappeared, but with a loud pop, the flames resurged and the shoulder reformed itself.

"Impedimenta!" yelled Ron, who had finally composed himself.

The two continued firing off curses at the skeleton, which did not stop its advance at all. Finally, Ron and Hermione were pinned against the back wall, the skeleton staring at them through its hollow, lifeless eyes.

Suddenly, the skeleton dropped to one knee.

"Won Won!" bellowed the skeleton, in a deep, hoarse voice. "Won Won, my heart burns for you with the passion of a hundred suns. Please Won Won, will you marry me?" Ron, still plastered to the back wall, looked down, horrified at the ghastly apparition. Hermione began laughing hysterically. She was joined by three sets of laugher from outside. Harry, Ginny, and a guy Ron didn't recognize appeared where the door used to be.

"Harry!" screamed Ron. "Get this thing away from me!" The stranger laughed and the skeleton evaporated into the air.

"Blimey, Harry, you nearly scared me to death," said Ron. "Literally," he added, glancing towards the scorch marks the skeleton had left on the ground.

"That was brilliant Harry," said Hermione. "How did you do that?"

"Wasn't me," said Harry, "it was Dave."

"Hello. I'm Dave." He stepped forward and shook Ron and Hermione's hands. "I just found out a couple days ago that I'm a wizard."

"You've only just found out?" asked Ron, completely stunned. "That's pretty strange. Usually it shows up when you're still little."

"So far that's all I've been hearing," said Dave. "That's strange, that's odd, that's rare. Am I really that unusual?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "You'd be the first in Britain in at least a hundred years."

"Wow," said Dave, completely stunned by the statistic. "Guess I'm strange."

"Yep, but at Hogwarts, everyone is," said Hermione brightly. "You needn't worry about it too much. I think everyone will be too stunned by your fire tricks to realize you're a late bloomer."

"How did you know about my fire tricks?" asked Dave. "I mean, I could have used normal magic to make that skeleton."

"Without any magic training?" asked Hermione, "I don't think Harry could have done that."

"And you could?" asked Harry.

"Nope, which is why I knew you couldn't," retorted Hermione, smiling at him. They all enjoyed a good laugh and headed back inside the house.

"Have you met my mum yet?" asked Ron, as they entered the house.

"Not yet, no," said Dave. "Is she here?"

"That's what I was wondering," answered Ron.

"She's out somewhere with Bill and Fleur. Something to do with the wedding," said Ginny.

"Wedding?" asked Dave. "When?"

"In a few weeks," said Ron. "My brother's getting married."

"Cool," said Dave. "Can I come?"

"I don't see why not," said Ron shrugging. "Besides, we're having it here. If you're going to live with us for the summer I don't see how you can _not _come."

"Good point," responded Dave, who called forth a small little ball of fire. He began tossing it between his hands as they all sat down in the Weasley's living room.

"That's wicked," said Ron, staring at the little ball of flame. "You can just create fire out of thin air, without a wand?"

"Yea, isn't it neat," said Dave. He held the fire in his open palm and it began to grow and take the shape of a dog. "Ron say something."

"What?" asked Ron, confused.

"What?" repeated the dog, in the same deep, hoarse voice the skeleton had used. Ron jumped when he heard it.

"Blimey. It can talk?"

"It talked before," said Dave, "when it proposed to you." Everyone, except Ron, began laughing again.

"That was Harry's idea by the way," said Ginny. "Dave just wanted to scare you."

"Well he did a bloody good job at it," said Ron, his ears turning red.

Life at the burrow was generally boring for Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but Dave was having the time of his life. Every thing was new and wonderful; from the Weasley's clock, to knives that chopped vegetables on their own volition, to garden gnomes. Dave found joy in the simplest of spells, and his enthusiasm was contagious. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny, all decided to teach him about the different spells, and even teaching Dave the most rudimentary spell work was interesting and fun.

Two weeks had past since Dave first came to the burrow. Final preparations for Bill and Fleur's wedding were underway, and Dave had just mastered the entire Standard Book of Spells, Grade One.

_6: Boys_

Up until the days preceding Bill and Fleur's wedding, Dave hadn't really gotten a chance to meet other witches and wizards outside the six who lived with him at the burrow. Even Bill and Fleur, who had popped in and out of the home on several occasions, were too busy to stay long, and other than a vague acknowledgement of his existence, neither of them really knew Dave at all.

"Bill looks like a cool guy," said Dave, who was buried inside a copy of _The Daily Prophet_, which he had become addicted to during his stay at the burrow.

"He is," said Harry, who was engrossed in a game of wizard's chess with Ron. The first time Dave saw the game he couldn't stop watching. Watching the little pieces beating each other to smithereens was more than enough to satiate his appetite for violence and destruction, which, in another life, he usually appeased with Halo.

He was no expert of chess, but judging from the sound of grinding stones and clanking metal, interspersed with short, angry grunts from Harry, he had the distinct impression that Harry was being thoroughly devastated, as he usually was, by Ron.

"What's he like?" asked Dave, turning to yet another article about someone who had gone missing.

"Well," said Ron, "He used to be a curse-breaker for Gringotts."

"Gringotts is the bank right?"

"Yea. Curse-breakers, well, break curses. They go into ancient tombs and temples, detecting and clearing out all the traps and magical barriers inside," explained Ron.

"What do they do then?" asked Dave, suddenly very interested.

"Well, there's a lot of treasure in these tombs," said Ron, "and he collects it for the goblins at Gringotts."

"Is it dangerous?"

"I s'pose," said Ron, shrugging. "When You-Know-Who returned he transferred for a desk job at the bank in Diagon Alley so he could help the ord…"

"Ron!" hissed Hermione from behind her Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven.

"Oh! Right, sorry," stammered Ron.

"The what?" asked Dave.

"Nothing," said Hermione. "Bill moved back here to be closer to all of us."

"Looks like mission accomplished," said Dave sarcastically. Harry let out a snort of laughter.

"I think he can know Hermione," said Harry, "It's not like Voldemort doesn't know about us, and besides, Snape's working for him anyway."

"I don't know… I suppose we can trust him."

"Dumbledore would," muttered Harry bitterly.

"We had a rough few months," said Ginny, coming up to Harry's side. "You know about You-Know-Who, but not about why he's so important to us."

"Harry explained Voldemort to me back in Diagon Alley," said Dave, Ron twitched upon hearing the name. "He said that he's been responsible for all the terrible things that have been happening lately. The Prophet says it too."

"There's much more to the story," assured Ginny.

"You see," began Harry. "Voldemort murdered my parents when I was little, that's why I live with my relatives."

"What? I thought… Dudley said…"

"I'm surprised he even talks about me," said Harry. "Dudley told you what my aunt and uncle wanted him to say. He's too stupid to come up with anything on his own." Dave couldn't help but smile at the last remark.

"Anyway, when Voldemort tried to kill me, something happened. My mother gave her life up to protect me, and thus," he indicated a lightning shaped scar on his forehead, "when Voldemort went to kill me, his curse backfired. By dying to protect me, my mother put an impenetrable shield on me. Voldemort couldn't touch me. The curse rebounded on him and he lost his body. A mere shadow of himself was left to wander around, jumping from body to body like a parasite, until a couple of years ago."

"So, he died, but didn't?" asked Dave confused.

"Something like that," confirmed Harry. "Anyway, a couple of years ago, he kidnapped me and used my blood as part of a spell that restored his body. Because he used my blood, I'm no longer protected from him."

"Voldemort is by far one of the most evil beings to walk the earth," interjected Hermione. "Very few can even say his name. Dumbledore, who used to be the headmaster of Hogwarts, was the only person Voldemort ever feared. But a little over a month ago…" She seemed to hesitate.

"A little over a month ago, Dumbledore was murdered," said Harry, hard lines crossed his face. "He was the leader of a group called the Order of the Phoenix. They exist solely to combat Voldemort and his death eaters. Dumbledore was murdered by a slimy traitor named Severus Snape, who used to teach potions at our school. Snape pretended to spy on the death eaters on the Order's behalf. He was a death eater once himself, so it was easy for him to slip back into the fold. But Snape was never working for us. He was a traitor the entire time, and a month ago, he killed Dumbledore and ran off."

"Yikes," said Dave. That was all he could say. Harry's story had rendered him speechless.

"So Bill's in the order?" asked Dave, finally breaking the awkward silence.

"Yep," said Ron. "He took up a desk job here to be close to the order, and he met Fleur while working at Gringotts."

"I haven't seen much of her either," said Dave, "but from what I've seen she seems absolutely beautiful." Ginny and Hermione both gave each other mirrored looks of utter disgust. Harry and Ron just smiled.

"She's incredible," commented Ron, Hermione glared at him. "But only because she is part veela," stammered Ron, saving himself.

"What's a veela?" asked Dave.

"A magical creature that alternates between the form of an exceptionally beautiful woman, and a vile, fire spewing wretch," said Hermione.

"Oh, is that all?" asked Dave with an ironic smile.

"And they have some kind of magical aura that makes all men into babbling, hormone driven idiots," added Ginny.

"Oh, I'm already one of those," said Dave, laughing. "I shouldn't have anything to worry about."

"You don't babble," said Hermione, who had resumed her engrossment in the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven. "And if you learn the second year material as fast as you learned the first, then it's probably a good indicator that you're not an idiot either. Ron, on the other hand…"

"Watch it Hermione…" said Ron, warningly. Hermione flashed him a brilliant smile, and Ron seemed to melt under it.

"See what I mean?" she asked. Everyone enjoyed a good laugh at Ron's expense and continued what they were doing.

There was an audible _thunk_ on the front door, and then it swung open. Bill and Fleur entered, with their arms full of boxes. With yet another _thunk_ the two dropped the boxes on the kitchen table and entered the living room where everyone else was gathered.

"Finally, some time to relax," said Bill, plopping himself on a big, comfy chair in the corner. Having no other place to sit, Fleur gracefully seated herself in Bill's lap.

Dave had never gotten a good look at either of the two before, and now that they were right in front of him, certain aspects of their appearance became quite striking. For one, Harry hit the mark perfectly when he said Bill looked 'cool'. He had a long, red pony tail, and a large fang earring dangling from his left ear. He wore mostly black, and was sporting heavy black, dragon hide boots. His face was even more startling. It was horribly scarred up, as if he had been attacked from some sort of animal.

Fleur on the other hand was everything his friends had said, and more. She was absolutely beautiful, with pale skin and silver hair that fell gracefully along her shoulders, framing her face, and more specifically, her twinkling blue eyes. 

"Ah, you must be Dave," said Bill, snapping him out of his entrancement.

"Yep, that's me," said Dave. "I take it your Bill?"

"Yep," he said smiling. It was then that Dave noticed he had abnormally large canine teeth. It suddenly struck him that Bill strongly resembled a wolf. He had heard about werewolves as mere stories, but if magic was real, they might be too.

"Ron tells me that you've only just found out you're a wizard. Congratulations."

"Thanks," said Dave. Werewolf or not, Bill was certainly friendly and Dave found himself liking him more and more. "Ron tells me you're a curse-breaker."

"I was," said Bill, smiling. "I used to work down in Egypt, exploring the pyramids and ancient tombs."

"Did you ever find anything valuable?" asked Dave.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you half the things I found there," said Bill. "Mountains of gold, statues, spell books, wonderful stuff."

"That sounds incredible," said Dave. "What exactly do you do now?"

"I sit behind a desk," started Bill. Dave leaned in closer, expecting something exciting. "And stamp parchment."

"That's it?" asked Dave, frowning. "How boring. Does your work with the order at least break up the monotony?" Bill shot Ron a questioning look.

"It's alright; we figure You-Know-Who knows who we all are anyway. Besides, we can trust him," said Ron.

"We thought we could trust Snape too," said Bill darkly. "But I suppose you're right," he returned his gaze to Dave. "You seem like a nice enough fellow, but I can't talk about what I do for the order. However, I assure you, it is a lot more fun than stamping papers."

"Did you get those scars working for the order?" asked Dave, eager to find out more.

"As a matter of fact, I did," said Bill, smiling his big, wolfish grin. "I was attacked by a werewolf."

"Does that mean you're a werewolf?" asked Dave.

"No, he wasn't transformed at the time. But I do have some wolf-like… qualities, I suppose."

Too amazed for words, Dave found himself silent and looking at Fleur.

"Was there anything you wanted to ask me?" asked Fleur, gazing at him sweetly.

"Uhhh… Yea… Umm…" Dave stammered. What he wanted to ask her was, 'Why are you so beautiful? How can someone as gorgeous as you exist? Will you marry me?' What he ended up saying was, "Why is your hair so silvery?" Fleur and Bill laughed, Ginny and Hermione shook their heads, Ron and Harry smirked.

"My gran-muzzer was a veela," explained Fleur.

"What's a veela?" he already knew, but he wanted to hear Fleur's voice some more.

"You seelly boy. You should look eet up," she laughed. Dave melted at its sound.

"Dave, I think we should start on the new set of spells," said Hermione abruptly. "I think Ron should come with us to help." She yanked Ron out of his chair and, grabbing their arms, hauled them both up the stairs.

"It was wonderful meeting you Fleur," said Dave as he stumbled behind Hermione.

"The pleasure's all mine," called Fleur after him.

"Honestly, the two of you are ridiculous," said Hermione disdainfully, shoving the two on a bed. Dave could hear Bill, Fleur, Harry, and Ginny roaring with laughter downstairs. He strained to hear Fleur's voice. Every tiny vibration was like a finely tuned symphony in his ear.

"Don't worry mate, you'll get used to her eventually," said Ron.

"Cause _you_ handle it so well now," said Hermione. "I mean, you've been living with her for how long?" Dave laughed and Ron's ears turned pink.

"Sorry 'Mione. I really am trying."

"I know," said Hermione, sighing. She sat down on the bed between them. "It's not your fault I suppose…"

"Why isn't Bill so entranced by her?" asked Dave. "He seemed to handle her well. Harry too."

"Well…" started Hermione. "Harry has an aptitude for resisting mind spells. He was the only person to throw off the Imperius curse; controls your mind," she quickly added, noting Dave's puzzled expression, "and he has a bit of experience with occlumency; protects your mind from magic. As for Bill…"

"I think he's just Bill," said Ron simply. "He has done some pretty wild things. I think he's just seen so much that Fleur doesn't affect him as much. Though I'm sure it affected him in the beginning. Why else would he devote so much time to teaching her eengleesh?"

"Good point," said Dave. "I wish I had a girlfriend who looked like that."

"Even if her personality was sawdust?" asked Hermione, frowning.

"Well, there's a certain point where no amount of attractiveness can compensate," said Dave hastily. "But I'd be able to put up with a thin layer of dust if there was a shiny surface underneath."

"Spoken like a true bloke," said Ron, with false reverence in his voice.

"Boys…" muttered Hermione.

7: The Guests

The wedding of Bill and Fleur came upon the Weasley household like a tidal wave. The day of the event, everyone was flitting about, frantically making sure every detail was perfect, and taking care of every last minute issue that arose.

Dave, Harry, and Hermione, none of them Weasleys, were able to sequester themselves in one of the bedrooms upstairs, while Ron and Ginny helped out. They were grateful to be away from all the noise and chaos downstairs.

"They're expecting a big turnout," said Hermione, who was reading through her copy of Advanced Potion Making for the third time.

"Big family?" asked Dave sarcastically. Both Hermione and Harry laughed.

"Fleur's family is coming too," said Hermione. "I don't think their family's really big though?"

"I can't imagine what the rest of her family must look like," said Dave.

"Well, her sister looks just like her," offered Harry.

"She has a sister!" exclaimed Dave. "How old?"

"God, I don't know… fifteen?" Harry shrugged and looked to Hermione, who mirrored his action.

"Hmmm… that's a bit of a stretch…" said Dave, contemplating his chances. "Do you think…"

"It would be pretty weird if you and Fleur's sister went out?" finished Harry. "Yes."

"It's only two years," said Dave.

"It _might_ only be two years," corrected Harry, smirking. "Besides, she doesn't speak English, what would you talk about?"

"Well, someone that beautiful, I figured we wouldn't talk all that much…"

"That is disgustingly pig-headed," said Hermione.

"Just kidding," said Dave.

A nervous silence, full of anticipation hung over the room, but was soon shattered by Ron bursting in.

"Everyone's arriving," said Ron, clad in a set of shiny blue dress robes.

"Wow, that looks cool," said Dave, admiring Ron's robes, "What are these?"

"Dress robes," said Ron. "Harry got them for me a couple years ago, I haven't needed them until now."

"Do you all have them?" asked Dave, suddenly aware of how unprepared he was for the wedding.

"Yea," said Harry. "Oh that's right! You don't. Ron, do you think your brother's would have an extra pair?"

"As a matter of fact," came a voice from outside. A guy sporting a green suit that seemed to be made of some kind of reptilian skin entered the room. He was immediately followed by another guy, identical in features, but wearing a magenta suit that clashed beautifully with his red hair. "We don't," he concluded.

"Dave, these are my older brothers: Fred and George," explained Ron. "This is Dave," he said, turning to them.

"Ah, David!" exclaimed the one in the green, who Dave assumed was Fred. "We've heard a little bit about you, and have been dying to meet you."

"Pleasure to meet you too," he said, shaking his hand. Fred and George were both beaming.

"Well, we don't have dress robes… or a suit for you," said George, "however…" He pulled out his wand.

"What are you going to do?" asked Hermione, looking horrified.

"Watch this," said George. Dave started getting a little apprehensive. George flicked his wand and Dave's clothing suddenly changed.

"Woa!" he exclaimed. His clothes had changed into a black suit, with a white shirt. The only problem was that they were sized to fit an elephant. Dave tried to move, but tripped over his pants and fell down.

"Ooops," laughed George, "hold on." He flicked his wand again, and the suit began shrinking at an alarming rate.

"Guys…" wheezed Dave. "A little looser, please?" Fred chuckled and flicked his wand this time. The suit loosened up and soon Dave was good to go.

"This is excellent," said Dave, inspecting his new suit. "Thanks guys."

"No problem," said the twins in unison. Ron exited, and Dave followed him down the stairs. He could hear the twins snickering behind him.

"_Reparo,_" said Hermione. Dave felt the butt of his pants tighten up.

"Ahhh…" said either Fred or George. "I thought the rip was very becoming." Dave spun around and caught Hermione rolling her eyes, pocketing her wand.

"Harry and Hermione still need to put their finery on," Fred observed when they all reached the bottom of the steps.

"We can do it later," said Harry. "I want to see everyone first."

Dave looked in to the living room and it was so full of people that it was spilling outside.

"Are they all wizards?" asked Dave.

"Most of them," said Ron.

"Uncle Phil's an accountant," offered Fred, pointing to a balding man and his wife who seemed very out of place.

"Those must be Fleur's parents," observed Harry. Dave looked in the direction Harry was pointing, and sure enough, there stood a very dignified looking man in black dress robes, accompanied by a woman of breathtaking beauty.

"Now we know where Fleur gets it from," muttered Ron. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"Behave yourself," she whispered.

"That hurt," protested Ron. Hermione smiled.

"Shall we meet everyone then?" asked George. He and Fred joined the crowd and began shaking hands with different people. Apprehensive, Dave, Harry, Ron, and Hermione began moving as a pack, looking for Ginny. They found her talking to another red head, obviously the final member of the Weasley family.

"Oh, Dave, I want you to meet Charlie," said Ginny. Dave shook Charlie's hand and nodded to him.

"Ginny tells me you're a bit unusual," said Charlie. Harry shot Ginny a questioning look.

"It's alright," said Dave. "As long as it stays quiet."

"Of course," said Charlie. Dave looked around, and making sure no one could see, created a small flame in his hand. It flickered about for a moment or two, then Dave dispelled it.

"Blimey, that was great," whispered Charlie. "You've just found out about this then?"

"Yep," said Dave. "Do you know anything about it?"

"I can only guess," replied Charlie, looking around to make sure no one was listening in. "It is possible that you have some sort of magical ancestry that you don't know about."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, take Fleur for instance. She has special magical abilities over men because her grandmother was a veela. Perhaps someone in your family was… I don't know… some kind of fire thing."

"But why would I be the first?"

"Maybe only a wizard would be able to use the gift," offered Charlie. "I honestly have no idea, though Dumbledore may know something about it."

"Dumbledore's…" started Harry.

"I know, but his portrait will be up in McGonagall's office, right?" asked Charlie. "His portrait may know the answer."

"I completely forgot!" exclaimed Harry. "Dumbledore really isn't gone then is he?"

"Nope, a good bit of him still remains I expect," said Charlie, smiling.

"Ah Charlie," came a deep voice from the crowd. Fleur's parents approached from seemingly out of nowhere. "A pleasure to finally meet you." He shook Charlie's hand. His wife bowed her head and then looked up.

"Fleur tells me you work weeth dragons, no?" she asked. Her voice melting everyone present, except Charlie, Mr. Delacour, and the girls.

"Yep," said Charlie cheerfully. "Including the one Fleur faced during the Triwizard."

"Ah yes, a shining moment for ze Delacour family," said Mr. Delacour pompously. His gaze shifted to the rest of the group, landing on Harry for a moment.

"And you must be 'Arry Potter then?" asked Mr. Delacour, extending his hand. Harry nodded and shook it. "Gabrielle does not stop talking about you," he continued. "Eets an 'onor to finally meet you." His continued to look over the group, this time his eyes fell on Ron. "And of course, Gabrielle talks about you too. Ronald, no?"

"Qui," said Ron, struggling not to stare at Mrs. Delacour. Fleur's father obviously picked up on it and moved on. "And 'ow about ze rest of you?" Dave, Ginny, and Hermione all introduced themselves. Mr. Delacour, now finished with them, continued his talk with Charlie.

"You are, of course, ze best man, yes?"

"Yep," said Charlie. "Whose the bride's maid?"

"That ees why we 'ave found you," explained Mr. Delacour. "I'd like to introduce you to 'er. She's over weeth Fleur and Beell."

"That would be wonderful," said Charlie happily. He followed the Delacours back into the crowd.

"Blimey, I don't think I can handle being a part of this new family anymore," said Ron, snapping out of his trance once Mrs. Delacour was out of sight. Everyone shared a good laugh and continued mingling.

A whole bunch of people were present at the wedding; many of them Hogwarts' teachers.

"Want me to introduce you to some of them?" asked Harry.

"That would be great… you think I should let them know about my… condition?"

"I'd let McGonagall know, but not the others," said Harry. They approached a group of wizards and witches talking amicably together in a corner.

"Harry! So nice to see you!" squeaked a tiny little man, who was standing on an ottoman to talk to the others.

"Hello," said Harry. "I want to introduce my friend Dave. He just got his letter a few weeks ago…"

"This lad here?" asked a tall woman, clad in dark green.

"Yes… This is David…"

"Piermont," finished the woman. "I know all about you. I had a long discussion with Dumbledore before I decided to send you your letter. Honestly I thought you were a little bit younger. You'll have lots of catching up to do."

"This is Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress," explained Harry, "and this is Professor Flitwick," he motioned to the little man on the ottoman.

"Pleasure to me you," said Dave. "Professor McGonagall, I've been studying with Harry and Hermione for a few weeks now. I've already mastered the Standard Book of Spells: Grade One, and half of Grade Two."

"Impressive," squeaked Flitwick. McGonagall nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps you'll catch up quickly," said McGonagall hopefully.

"He's a natural," assured Harry.

"Of course he is," said another voice from behind McGonagall. A gigantic man, who had gone unnoticed because he was sitting down, suddenly stood up, carefully bending his head to avoid the ceiling.

"This is Hagrid," said Harry. Dave arched his neck to look the man in the face.

"Pleasure to meet you," said Dave, holding up his hand. Hagrid shook it, nearly taking his arm off.

"Late bloomers always do well," commented Hagrid. "It's like the potential's been building up over the extra years."

"I hope so," said Dave. He looked at Harry and nodded his head towards McGonagall. Harry understood the gesture and nodded back in the affirmative.

"Hey, Professor McGonagall, can we speak to you in private for a moment?" asked Dave.

"What is it this time?" asked McGonagall, looking to Harry. "I never receive good news during these meetings."

"I haven't been wrong yet," said Harry darkly. McGonagall's face suddenly looked very old and pale, betraying her age.

"Very well. The kitchen is empty, we can talk there." They all followed McGonagall into the kitchen.

"Well Potter, Piermont, what is it?"

"Um…" started Dave. "The day after I got my letter, I had a weird dream." McGonagall's lips tightened.

"In my experience with Potter and his friends, dreams have never been a good thing," said McGonagall stiffly. "Continue."

"Well, the dream was a little strange, but what I wanted to talk to you about is what happened after I woke up..."

"Well?"

"I guess I should just show you," said Dave. He held out his palm in front of McGonagall and a flame ignited out of thin air.

"Oh my," said McGonagall. "That's quite unusual. I've never seen anything like it."

"You don't know either?" asked Dave, crestfallen.

"No, but it's a good thing you showed this to me," said McGonagall. "Naturally the other teachers will not know unless it becomes necessary. Can you tell me anything about your dream?" Dave recounted a rough idea of what happened.

"That is quite interesting," said McGonagall, after contemplating Dave's dream for a moment. "I wonder if Dumbledore will know anything about this…"

"We were hoping we could ask his portrait," said Harry.

"That will probably be best," agreed McGonagall. "I don't know why you have this ability, but I can tell you one thing. There are strange creatures, and strange powers that tend to appear and disappear now and again. Perhaps there are powers at work here that are beyond our comprehension. I would venture to guess that you received these powers now, and not a long time ago for a reason. I'm afraid that's all I can say for the time being."

"It's a great start," said Dave.

"Learn as much magic as you can this summer," instructed McGonagall. "I would very much like to see what you're capable of, as soon as possible."

"Yes Professor," said Dave. They all got up and rejoined the crowd of guests. The wedding was about to begin.

8: The Hanging Gardens

Dave was never a big fan of weddings. He wasn't the most romantic guy in the world, and the idea of being bound to another person forever was rather unfavorable. However, he couldn't help but smile and feel warm inside during the ceremony.

The wedding took place out in a grassy field near the burrow. It was decked out in a highly grandiose and festive manner that made Dave wonder where the Weasley's found the money to pay for all of it. He liked them and all, but it was abundantly clear that money was tight in the Weasley household.

The field was made out to be reminiscent of ancient Babylon. The theme had been decided long before Dave had come to the burrow, so he hadn't been around for all the thinking behind it, but from the way Ron, Harry, and Hermione explained it, the theme was meant to allude to Bill's days as a curse breaker, and exemplify the grandeur and beauty of marriage. Dave also felt that since the friendly, but immodest, Delacours planned the wedding, the theme may have also been a tribute to Fleur's beauty.

Beautiful it certainly was. The entire area was enclosed by an incredible recreation of the famous hanging gardens of Babylon. The guests all sat in a grassy field, flanked on either side by massive stone terraces, each overflowing with flowers of every color and variety. Vines snaked their way down between plans and over the sides of the terraces into the next bed, and ivy climbed up all the vertical surfaces. The altar was raised a full story, roughly ten feet, above the field, and a set of stone steps led from the ground up to them. The altar was made to resemble a miniature version of the tower of Babel, which stood within the walls of Babylon, and was constructed of 3 stone slabs, each smaller than the one under it, making a sort of terraced pyramid. The stairs were cut into the front of the altar. Four stone columns, one at each corner of the top terrace, extended up another eight or so feet, and a stone slab was placed atop, creating the roof of the altar.

The stone work would have taken years to carve, if it had been done without magic. Carvings of flowers, and other romantic images went around the sides of all the terraces. The four columns were carved to have stone vines spiraling down from the tops. Each vine bore several stone flowers, each unique and crafted with an impossible amount of detail.

"This is incredible," stammered Hermione, as the five of them, her, Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Dave, entered through a stone archway into the wedding area. They weren't the only ones completely awed by the décor. All of the guests were looking up, arching their necks to find the tops of the gardens, and looking in all directions quickly, as if to try and see the entire complex in a single glance.

"I can't even imagine how much this must have cost," said Dave quietly. Everyone present looked to Ron and Ginny.

"Bride's family pays for the wedding," said Ginny shrugging.

"Gin, don't you have somewhere to be?" asked Ron, a big grin forming on his face.

"Yea… I know…" she said, blushing. She left the group and headed over to where the parent's of the bride and groom were gathered.

"Where's she going?" asked Dave, as the four of them took seats near the front, on Bill's side.

"Her and Gabrielle are flower girls," said Ron grinning. "They even have matching dresses."

"That should be a sight to see," said Dave, leaning back in his chair. His double meaning was lost on Ron, but Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry nodded his head in agreement, a smirk playing along the edges of his mouth.

"So," said Dave, attempting to fill the current silence. "Are you sure Gabrielle is too young for me?"

"Yep," said Hermione, admiring the altar.

"But young is a very relative term…"

"She's below the age of consent," countered Hermione coolly.

"But does the muggle age of consent apply in the wizard world, and is the age of consent in France different?" said Dave, smirking now.

"I don't know, why don't you ask her parents?" countered Hermione. "Mr. Delacour works in the French ministry; he can tell you all about the laws of France."

"How did you know that?" asked Ron.

"I heard him talking to someone from our ministry earlier about the Voldemort situation," answered Hermione. Ron twitched horribly upon hearing the name spoken out loud.

"I was wondering when someone would drop his name," said Harry.

"Even saying his name feels weird," said Hermione. "Just look at this place we're in, and what's about to start. How can anything bad be happening while this is taking place?"

"I never knew you were such a romantic," stated Harry as guests filed in behind them, grunting and muttering apologies as they squeezed past and around one another to fill in the empty seats.

"Just the aura of the ceremony I suppose," said Hermione, taking Ron's hand. Ron seemed surprised at first, but decided to roll with it.

Dave took his eyes off Ron and Hermione, feeling a bit uncomfortable in their presence. Something about couples in love bothered him. They gave off this weird aura that was warm and nice, but at the same time, made him feel unsure of himself and awkward; like he was intruding on some kind of exclusive meeting.

The seats all filled surprisingly quickly, and a collective hush swept through the crowd like a summer breeze. Silence fell upon all present like a warm blanket, fostering the creation of anticipation in the guests that was so strong it seemed to take on solid form.

Bill, his best man and younger brother Charlie, and the bridesmaids, who looked like they were Fleur's friends from school, climbed the ornate stairs towards the altar. A short man, clad in white dress robes, was already waiting at the top.

The short man kept his eyes focused on his wristwatch. The wedding was planned so that the ceremony would take place while the sun was setting. The entire complex was positioned so it would set just behind the altar, creating a magnificent effect. As the minutes ticked by in agonizing slowness, the bottom of the sun began to drop behind the roof of the altar. The man looked up and took a step forward.

"Please rise as the bride enters," said the man. Everyone stood and turned to the entrance way.

Wood-nymphs rose from the terraced flower beds that framed the ceremony. Muffled gasps of awe rose from the crowd, who began turning every which way to get a glimpse of them. The nymphs began to sing. Their voices were smooth and soothing. Dave felt himself gently swaying back and forth to their song.

The nymphs continued singing for a moment, and then made a beautiful segue into their variation on the terribly clichéd 'Here comes the bride'. Ginny and Gabrielle, wearing matching dresses of pale pink, entered through the archway, carrying wicker baskets full of flower petals. They walked down the central isle, Gabrielle clearly more enthusiastic, and spread the petals around as they went. They were soon followed by Fleur, her arm hooked into her father's.

If Dave hadn't been so entranced by the nymphs music, and Fleur's beauty, he would have had trouble stifling a snort of laughter. He suddenly remembered why he never liked weddings. They were all the same. Fleur and her father did the familiar 'wedding walk' down the center isle, which was to the beat of the music, with periodic pauses as they went. The crowd was moderately sized, so it didn't take too long, and soon Fleur was at the foot of the steps, where Bill was waiting for her.

Mr. Delacour kissed Fleur on the forehead and handed her to Bill, who shook Mr. Delacour's hand. No words were exchanged, but Dave could feel the dialogue between the two men at the base of the steps. There was a mutual understanding of the trust one now had for the other. Bill was expected to take care of Fleur, and Mr. Delacour trusted him to do it. The consequences of failure would be great in magnitude and magnificently terrible. Turning, Bill and Fleur ascended the stairs to the altar.

The rest went as predicted. The small man said a few words, and then asked Bill and Fleur the big question, to which both responded with firm and confident 'I do's'.

Bill and Fleur slipped wedding bands onto each other's fingers, and kissed, the crowd cheering and clapping happily. They all stood up and the chairs moved and rearranged themselves into circles. Round tables materialized out of nowhere, and the reception began.

9: On the Hogwarts Express

The rest of the summer flew by unmarked. Dave had already mastered the first three years of basic spell work, though his vocabulary of incantations was still stuck around mid-second year. Mastery of the spell work had been easier than any of his friends had anticipated. Looking back on their first couple years at Hogwarts, they realized, by teaching Dave, that it wasn't the material, but their intellectual immaturity that had made learning magic so difficult. The material itself seemed astonishingly simple, now that they were reflecting upon it from their older, seventh year perspectives.

There was a brief interlude during the summer where Dave had lived at the Burrow with Ginny only. The other three were much more entangled in the fight against Voldemort than they had let on, and had gone off on a two week excursion to a place called Godric's Hollow. It was where Harry had lived when his parent's were murdered, and the site where Voldemort originally fell from power. They had gone off not only hoping to discover more about Harry's family and past, but to find clues as to how to defeat Voldemort.

Alone and without the help, or rather hindrance of Ron and Harry's incessant need to play Quidditch, chess, or other magical games, Ginny proved to be the most effective teacher Dave had ever had; even better than his professional teachers at Smeltings.

The summer holiday had gone as suddenly as his new found powers had arrived, and on September first, he found himself abruptly plunged in the very world he had spent his summer preparing for.

"Dave! Dave! Wake Up!" shouted Ginny, shaking him out of his peaceful slumber.

"What is it?" muttered Dave, groggily slurring his words. He rolled over onto his back, covering his eyes with his arm, unready to face the blinding light.

"We gotta get going," said Ginny. "The train leaves at eleven."

"What time is it now?" asked Dave. His mind began to awaken and Ginny's words started making sense.

"It's late enough that if we don't get moving now, we'll miss it," said Ginny. After another minute of lying down, Dave mustered up all the energy in his body, and with an audible groan, rolled over and out of his bed, hitting the floor.

"That's one way of waking yourself up," commented Ginny, shaking her head. Dave stood up and looked out the window. The sky was only just beginning to brighten.

"Why are we waking at this ungodly hour to catch an eleven o'clock train?" asked Dave, rubbing his eyes.

"Ever sit in London traffic?" asked Ginny.

"Can't we just use magic or something? We are wizards, intelligent human beings capable of accomplishing astounding and supernatural feats. Surely we've figured out something a tad bit more efficient than a car."

"I'm afraid not," said Ginny. "If we didn't have any baggage than it would be a little easier but…"

"Oh god, I still haven't packed!" interrupted Dave, bending down to gather his stuff.

"Hence why you're awake so early," said Ginny, smiling. "Get dressed and come downstairs. Mum's made breakfast. We should still have enough time to pack after."

Dave walked downstairs and was delighted to see that Harry, Hermione, and Ron had returned from their trip.

"When do you guys get back?" asked Dave, taking a seat at the table.

"'Bout an hour ago," said Ron, "and god are we tired."

"Did you find anything useful?" asked Ginny.

"A lot of interesting stuff," admitted Harry, glancing over towards Dave. "Some stuff about Voldemort too, but not much."

"Well…" started Dave.

"Well what?" asked Harry.

"Are you gonna tell us what you found?" Dave asked smiling.

"Mostly photographs and old heirlooms," said Harry. "They're packed away right now, but when we get to school I can show you."

Dave got the sense that he was hiding something, but didn't pursue the matter. He finished eating, packed his stuff, and at 10:45 they found themselves at King's Cross station.

"Now you say the train leaves from platform nine and three quarters?" asked Dave.

"Yeah," said Hermione. "It's inside the third pillar between platforms nine and ten."

"Oh… I guess that makes sense," said Dave. "But wait… when you say _in_ the pillar…"

"Watch," said Harry, as they came to a stop between the two platforms. He slowly moved up to the third pillar, quickly glanced around, and stepped into it.

"He just…" stammered Dave.

"Your turn," said Hermione. "Don't worry, you'll be fine." Dave went up to the pillar, and as Harry had done, made sure no one was watching. Tenuously he leaned in and found the pillar was, as he expected, solid brick.

"You need to believe that you'll go through," instructed Ginny.

"You must believe, Neo," muttered Dave. Once again, he looked, and leaned in. This time he found that there was nothing to lean on and quickly lost his balance. When he got up, he was on a train platform. A sign reading 'Platform 9¾ The Hogwarts Express' hung from a column. Sitting on the tracks was a black, steam locomotive with scarlet trim. The train's name was printed on the engine.

"This way," said Harry. "Leave your trunk here. They'll take care of it for you. Come aboard." Dave got on with Harry and Ginny and the three went to find a compartment to sit in.

"Where's Ron and Hermione?" asked Dave, as they sat down in an empty compartment.

"They're prefects, they'll be here in a bit," said Harry.

"Oh, they have people like those at Smeltings," said Dave. "Do they carry sticks at Hogwarts?"

"Hmm?" asked Harry in surprise, "Oh, no, no sticks."

"That's good," said Dave, scooting himself into the corner of the compartment and leaning against the wall. "The prefects at Smeltings gave me some nasty bruises."

"Tell me more about Smeltings," said Harry. "I never spoke much to Dudley about it."

"I'd guess Dudley doesn't speak to you much at all," said Dave. "Hell, he can barely string a sentence together when he talks to us." Both Harry and Dave broke out laughing.

"Smeltings is pretty normal I think," said Dave. "Everyone there either has too much money, or pretends to. All the teachers drone on and on about how prestigious the school is, but judging by the people in my year, it doesn't seem like a group of winners to me."

"Are there more people like Dudley?" asked Harry.

"No, Dudley's one of a kind. The people at Smeltings aren't all too smart, but Dudley is really a whole new level of dumb. The only thing Smeltings respects more than individual talent is parentage, and Mr. Dursely is certainly high on Smeltings' list of exceptional alumni."

"Smeltings always came across as a very shallow school," said Harry.

"It is, but they know a kid who's going places when they see one," said Dave, "and they do everything in their power to make that kid want to stay there. Successful alumni mean more prestige, which means more rich, well-connected families will give them money and send their children, who will in turn bring the school more prestige."

"It's like you're all products of the Smeltings corporation," observed Harry.

"That's one way to look at it I suppose," said Dave.

"You don't seem to think highly of Dudley," said Harry.

"I don't," admitted Dave, "but the kids of Smeltings aren't receptive to kids who stick out. I kind of got the feeling that your relatives are like that with you. Dudley's big, strong, and while he's dumb as nails, he has the ability to rally people and make friends. Sticking with him is a great way to stay accepted, because if you're friends with Dudley you are feared, and thus respected. If you're respected then you become the model of normal and everyone tries to emulate you."

"I'm surprised Dudley has that much control over the school," said Harry.

"It's not that he controls the school, he's got as many enemies as the next guy," started Dave, "but he's the 'big guy' so to speak. If you're a weak little kid who gets beat up, Dudley's the guy you go to. Give him food, money, or smokes, and he'll help you out. Suck up to him and he'll be your friend. If Dudley's on your side, then you don't have to worry."

"I never realized he was so noble," commented Harry sarcastically.

"Well, he's no different than any of the other big shots. It's Smeltings' politics."

"Sounds like the mob."

"In many ways, it kind of is."

"Who do you think replaced Snape?" asked Ginny, suddenly changing the subject.

"I actually didn't even think about it," said Harry. "Actually, I'm surprised the school's still open after last term."

"I'm not," said Ginny. "It would be a poor way of remembering Dumbledore. McGonagall wouldn't let the school close."

"She seemed pretty ready to do it last term," said Harry. "I wonder what changed her mind."

"From what I've been hearing," started Dave. "It seems that either way, the school's going to have a lot less people."

"That's for sure," said Ginny. "I don't know if you noticed Harry, but did you realize how easily we found a compartment this year?"

"We've always found one in the past," said Harry.

"Yes, but there's usually been someone else there first, or we would always be joined later," said Ginny.

"I guess the train is even emptier than I had thought," said Harry, disturbed by the revelation. "Quidditch won't be as competitive this year."

"If we even have it," said Ginny grimly.

"With all this Voldemort business, I may not even have the time for Quidditch," observed Harry. "I think I'll probably be in and out all term."

"You think we'll be safe at Hogwarts?" asked Dave.

"Hogwarts doesn't seem like it, but it's probably the safest place to be," said Ginny. "Certainly safer than at home."

"But Voldemort doesn't want to attack my home," observed Dave. "He's already attacked Hogwarts several times."

"True," said Harry. "Hogwarts probably isn't safe at all, especially now that Dumbledore's gone, but I don't think you'll have to worry, he wants to kill me, not you," added Harry brightly.

"That's a comforting thought," muttered Dave. A knock came on the compartment door. Ginny slid it open to reveal a girl, roughly his age standing at the door.

"Hey Melinda," said Ginny.

"Hey," she said cheerfully. "I was sent to let you guys know that Professor Slughorn is expecting you two in ten minutes in his compartment."

"The Slug Club's still on then?" asked Harry, slightly amused.

"Is that what it's called now?" asked Melinda, shaking her head and smiling. "It appears so, but only two new members so far."

"Who's that?" asked Harry.

"Well… Pansy Parkinson…"

"What?" asked Harry incredulously, "Why?"

"Don't know," admitted Melinda. "Also some new guy. He must be a first year 'cause I've never heard of him before."

"What's his name?" asked Harry, somewhat interested.

"David Piermont," said Melinda shrugging. "I have no idea how I'm supposed to find him though."

"Look no further," said Dave brightly. "I'm Dave."

"Oh!" said Melinda. "You certainly don't look like a first year."

"I'm a transfer," said Dave. "First year at Hogwarts."

"Oh! Where from?"

"Umm…" started Dave. He glanced over to Harry who just shrugged his shoulders. "I was home-schooled. My parent's didn't want me going so far away."

"Oh, that's neat. I hear Parvati and Padma are being home-schooled now," said Melinda, looking over to Ginny.

"Ten minutes then?" asked Harry.

"Yep," said Melinda.

"We'll see you there," said Dave. Melinda smiled at him and left the compartment.

"I think she likes you," said Harry, grinning.

"What can I say? I'm awesome."

"Awesomely ridiculous," said Ginny. The three of them all shared another good laugh.

"Before we go, what exactly is this 'Slug Club'?" asked Dave.

"Well, basically, the potions professor, Slughorn, likes to get friendly with all the well-connected and exceptional students. Kind of like Smeltings in a way," remarked Harry. "He tries to win you over, and later, he'll do you big favors, like recommend you for positions in the ministry, and he hopes that you'll help him in return."

"How so?"

"Well, for instance, one ex-member of the 'Slug Club' plays profession Quidditch and Slughorn gets free tickets to games."

"I wonder what he sees in me."

"Probably because you're so unusual," conjectured Ginny. "He probably thinks there's something special about you."

"Well, he'd be right," observed Dave, he slowly got up from his seat and stretched. "Shall we go?"

_10: The Slug Club_

Harry, Dave, and Ginny made their way down the corridor to the large compartment down at the end. Ginny and Harry were looking into compartment windows as they walked by, their dismay growing in intensity.

"I can't believe this," said Harry. "Half the school's gone."

"Understandably so," pointed out Ginny, who looked into another compartment to find two students she was friends with.

"At least you two returned," she said, smiling.

"My gram said that I had to go to make a point," said the boy in the compartment. "I would have come back anyway though."

"Dave, this is Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood," said Ginny. The two came out of the compartment and shook Dave's hand.

"Are you new?" asked Luna, dreamily. She seemed to be off in another world.

"Yeah… I… am," answered Dave tentatively, unsure if Luna was even listening to his answer.

"Did you go to another school before?" asked Luna.

"… I was home-schooled," said Dave.

"That's unusual," said Luna. "Everyone else went to Hogwarts, and now that You-Know-Who's back they're all being home-schooled, but you're doing the exact opposite. Did your family not like Dumbledore?"

"What? Oh, no, they just didn't want me going so far away from home," said Dave, baffled by Luna's commentary.

"That's cool," said Luna. "Where do you live?"

"Hampshire."

"Oh, that's not far from me!" said Luna, happily.

'Perhaps I should move a little farther then,' Dave thought to himself. "Cool, maybe I'll see you around during the holidays then," he replied.

"That would be nice," said Luna.

"Were you guys headed over to see Slughorn?" asked Neville. Dave returned his attention to the normal one.

"Yea, you too?" asked Ginny.

"Yep, and Luna was invited too," said Neville smiling.

"Melinda said that only Dave and Parkinson were new to the club," said Harry.

"Guess she forgot me," said Luna shrugging. "It happens a lot." Dave decided that when they got to Hogwarts, he would try to avoid her. She made him uncomfortable.

The five of them continued down the hall and entered the compartment at the end. Several students were already inside, including Hermione and Ron.

"Ron, you're here now too?" asked Harry, sitting down next to him.

"Yeah, Hermione came into the prefect meeting and told me I was invited," said Ron. "Maybe it's because of my dad's promotion."

"Or because you fought a bunch of Death Eaters last June," said Ginny, smiling, "which is probably why Luna's here too." Dave began looking around at all the other students. There were ten in all, and Dave knew all but two of them. Sitting next to Ron was Hermione, and next to her was Melinda, who Dave had just met. Dave was seated between Neville and a black boy who showed displeasure at the current company. Next to him was an attractive blond who Dave assumed must be Pansy Parkinson, the girl that his friends all seemed to hate. Melinda sat on Pansy's right.

"So who are you?" asked the boy, turning slightly.

"I'm Dave," he shook the boy's hand. "I'm new to Hogwarts this year."

"Clearly," said the boy. "Well, I'm Blaise Zabini, this is Pansy Parkinson," the girl looked up to Dave and nodded, cracking a small smile. "So, why does Slughorn think you're worthy of being in his silly little club?"

"Don't know," admitted Dave. "Never met him."

"You're about to find out," said Harry, "I can hear him coming now." Sure enough a roar of hearty laughter was heard coming from the corridor. A very large, round man, sporting an exuberant walrus mustache, entered the compartment and took a seat at the table.

"Well, welcome back," said the man, "For those of you who are new here," he made eye contact with Dave, "I'm professor Slughorn. I've called you all here to personally welcome you all back to Hogwarts and to catch up with you all. Quite a lot has happened since we last met." He looked around the table, as if taking roll.

"First, we should all be properly introduced with each other. We've got a lot of newcomers here," said Slughorn happily. "First, have you all gotten a chance to meet our new student, David?" Dave smiled and looked around to everyone.

"David is the first 'late-bloomer' in exactly a hundred and seventeen years," said Slughorn. "Late-bloomers for those who don't know, are people who show no signs of magical ability whatsoever, so much that even the Hogwarts quill doesn't detect them, but later in life they suddenly find themselves blowing up their televisions…"

"Or setting their beds on fire," said Dave, finishing the sentence. Slughorn looked at him for a moment, and then began roaring with laughter. Dave couldn't help but smile.

"So that's what happened then?" laughed Slughorn. "I wondered what kind of catastrophic event put you on the Hogwarts map. Good show, good show! I bet you had quite a fright when it happened!"

"You could say that," said Dave. "Not as frightening as coming down the next morning to find an owl standing over my eggs and toast." Slughorn roared with laughter some more. Dave began laughing too, in spite of himself. A couple of others, Luna included, also joined in. Pansy had cracked a smile, but Blaise still appeared to be bored, and wanting to leave.

"Anyway, I found Luna here fighting the Death Eaters last June. Never seen so much courage from someone so young, except for Harry of course," Slughorn, who has strategically positioned himself next to Harry, patted him on the back. "And Ron Weasley, father just got a big promotion in the ministry, and I saw him fighting the Death Eaters too, and from what I've been hearing, your two older brothers are quickly becoming some of the most successful business men in Diagon Alley!"

"They're expanding into Hogsmeade too," said Ron, a big smile on his face.

"Excellent!" said Slughorn happily. Satisfied that inviting Ron wasn't a waste he moved on.

"Now Miss Parkinson! How you escaped my notice last year bewilders me! Her father is on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts, and if it wasn't for him, we wouldn't be on the train going back this year!" So the question about Pansy had been answered, though it didn't seem nearly as important in comparison to the others, but then again, Dave was considered important enough to be in the group, so he supposed Pansy was too.

"He was the only dissenting vote," added Pansy, though she remained quiet and timid in the presence of the rest of the group. "The rest wanted to close the school."

"It would have been a grave mistake if they did too!" said Slughorn, banging his fist on the table. "And a poor way to remember Dumbledore, I might add."

The door opened and a woman pushing a trolley entered the room, leaving the trolley in the corridor.

"I have your order here professor," said the woman, she turned and started passing around plates.

"Thank you," said Slughorn. The group all ate lunch and made small talk. Dave decided to get to know Blaise and Pansy. They seemed so detached from everyone else, that he wanted to learn more about them.

"So what's up with you two?" asked Dave, looking from Blaise to Pansy.

"What do you mean?" asked Blaise.

"You guys seem to be off in your own world," commented Dave.

"You'll find this out when you get to Hogwarts," started Blaise, lowering his voice, "there are groups of people who simply don't like each other, you could say. We're in one group, and everyone else here, except for Melinda, is in another."

"Does 'everyone else' include me?" asked Dave, looking Blaise right in the eye.

"You came here with Potter and Weasley?"

"Yeah, they're my friends," replied Dave, unsure where this was going.

"Well, if they're your friends, then we don't like you," said Blaise simply. "It's nothing personal. It's just the way it is."

"You're serious aren't you?" asked Dave.

"You'll see for yourself," said Blaise.

"Look at the time!" exclaimed Slughorn, suddenly. "It's time you all started getting your robes on. We'll be at the school in an hour."

"It takes that long to put robes on?" asked Dave, looking from Blaise to Harry.

"Well, I've got business to take care of too," dismissed Slughorn. "No matter. It's time we parted ways for now. I will see you all at the start of term feast. Watch for owls, I'm planning a special celebration for sometime in the beginning of the year." Harry, Ginny, Dave, Hermione, Neville, and Luna all filed out of the room and sat together in one of the larger compartments further down the train.

"That guy Blaise is quite a downer," said Dave, as they all sat down.

"His entire group is simply dreadful," said Hermione, who opened up a Standard Book of Spells: Grade Seven and began to read.

"Groups, factions, clubs, it's like I'm back at Smeltings again," said Dave, disapprovingly.

"I'm sure you'll find Hogwarts far more interesting," assured Harry.

"I hope so."

_11: The Sorting Hat_

As the red and gold of the sun began to be replaced by the silver of the moon in the darkening sky, the anticipation among the group of students inside the small compartment grew.

"We're nearing Hogwarts now," said Harry, looking out the window.

"What happens when I get there?" asked Dave, unfolding his black robes.

"I suppose you'll go with the first year students to get sorted," replied Hermione. "Students are sorted into one of four houses."

"What're the differences between the houses?"

"Gryffindor is for the brave, Hufflepuff for the loyal and hard-working, Ravenclaw for the most intelligent, and Slytherin for the ambitious," said Hermione, as if it was a definition she had taken the time to memorize.

"We're all in Gryffindor, cept for Luna," said Ron.

"What house are you in?" asked Dave, turning to Luna.

"Ravenclaw," she replied, absently.

Dave couldn't quite believe that Luna fell into the intelligent category, but he pushed the thought aside for a moment and continued to question the others.

"How're we sorted?"

"You sit on a stool and they put a hat on you," said Harry.

"A hat?"

"Yep, a hat," he replied, grinning. "The hat will say the name of the house it puts you in out loud, and then you sit down at that house's table."

"Is house important?" asked Dave, suddenly worried.

"Very," said Harry. "You have classes with them, eat with them, and live with them. They are kind of like your family at Hogwarts."

"What if I'm not put into Gryffindor?" asked Dave.

"Well," started Hermione. "It's not the end of the world. Luna's not in Gryffindor and she still gets to spend time with us."

"Which house is the best?"

"Gryffindor of course," said Ron and Harry, in unison. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"No house is really better than the others," she said. "Every person you ask will respond with the name of their house. The sorting hat usually makes the right decision."

"Where do you think it'll put me?" asked Dave, suddenly worried.

"Are you smart?" asked Ginny.

"I'd like to think I am," responded Dave.

"Are you brave."

"Probably not."

"Are you ambitious."

"Isn't everyone?"

"Are you a hard worker?"

"No."

"Well, I don't know," said Ginny shrugging. "I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"We should be getting our robes on," announced Hermione, looking out the window. "We're almost there."

Neville, Harry, Ron, and Dave all stepped out into the hallway while the girls got changed.

"Who was that girl at the meeting?" asked Dave, suddenly.

"Which girl? Melinda?" asked Harry.

"No, the girl sitting next to Blaise. I think her name was Pansy."

"She's in Slytherin," said Harry. The grimace on his face indicating what he thought of her. "She's a complete cow."

"Cow?"

"You know… a cow," replied Harry, frowning.

"She was pretty."

"Not cow as in ugly… as in… spoiled, bratty, nasty…"

"Cow-like?" offered Ron.

"Yeah," finished Harry.

"I kind of liked her. She seemed pretty down-to-earth to me," said Dave.

"You haven't seen the real her," assured Harry. "She's a nasty piece of work when she wants to be. You should have seen her when Draco was still around."

"Draco?" asked Dave.

"Draco Malfoy was her boyfriend, but after he tried to kill Dumbledore and snuck a small army of Death Eaters into Hogwarts he disappeared along with Snape. The two are probably hanging out with Voldemort right now."

"Does Pansy support Voldemort?" asked Dave.

"Probably, though I don't think she was ever directly involved with him like Draco was," said Harry.

"She'd hate me then. I'm… muggle-born?" he asked, looking at Harry to see if that was the right word.

"Yep," said Harry. "People are going to ask you a lot about your parentage. Some won't care, others will hate you for what you are."

"I could just keep it a secret," said Dave. "What they don't know…"

"Won't hurt you," finished Harry. "You wouldn't be the first. A lot of people don't talk about their parents because they're afraid, especially now that Voldemort's returned."

"It's better now than it used to be," added Ron. "People are more accepting of muggle-borns."

"Yeah, they're starting to figure out that muggle-borns are just as much wizards as anyone else," continued Harry.

Despite what had been said about Pansy, Dave found her more fascinating than before, and found himself thinking about her, and even more so about Voldemort for the last bit of the ride to Hogwarts. Something about how everyone described him made him out to be almost pure evil, as if the laws of humanity didn't even apply. He reminded Dave of a comic book villain. So terrible and powerful that it was hard to take him seriously. Yet, he was real and out there now. The thought made him uncomfortable.

When they got off the train, Dave immediately spotted a gigantic man beckoning all the first years to come to him.

"I guess I'll see you guys later," said Dave, as he took off towards the gigantic man.

The man ushered Dave and all the first years into small, rickety wooden boats that looked like they should be sinking. Dave carefully got into the closest one, and was relieved to find that it supported his weight. He was much bigger than the first years, and they were intimidated by his presence, so the ride across the big black lake passed silently. However Dave couldn't help but look all around at the scenery before him.

He had never seen a castle like Hogwarts, which had towers and spires reaching endlessly for the heavens. The castle looked like it was right out of a dream, and seemed as if it were about to collapse at any moment. Dave realized that magic must have been holding the structure, as stone and wood alone sure weren't going to do it. The size of the castle was unbelievable, and small bridges leading to lesser keeps extended to both the left and the right.

Past the castle were rolling green hills and thick forests extended far; past the veil of night that obscured Dave's vision and beyond into unknown realms. Mysteries lay past those dark veils; werewolves, fairies, dragons, and creatures Dave's mind had only begun to invent. The awe generated by the magnitude of Hogwarts Castle would be lodged in Dave's mind for the rest of his life. He looked around and saw that many of the other children felt as he did. The thought of not being alone put him more at ease.

The boats landed on the other side of the lake, and the giant man ushered them into the entrance hall, which was framed by four massive hourglasses filled with jewels. An animal, made of gold, was emblazoned on each one. Dave realized immediately that they must each represent a house, though he couldn't begin to understand what their function could be.

"First years," came a small voice. Dave spun around to see a tiny little man come up to them.

"First years, please form a line and follow me," called the man excitedly. Dave got in line behind some twenty five first year students and with the tiny man in the lead, and the giant man in the rear, they entered through a set of gigantic oak doors.

On the other side of the doors was another hall. It was the biggest, most grandiose room, Dave had ever seen. Four long tables filled the room, with a long, elevated dais on the opposite end. Older people, whom Dave guessed were the teachers, sat at this dais. The tables, despite their size, looked rather empty. The table furthest to the left and the table second from the right were the fullest.

The table second from the right was decorated with lots of red and gold. A large red banner, bearing a gold lion hung above it. Dave looked down the table and saw his friends sitting at it; obviously the Gryffindor table.

The other full table, on the far left, was decorated with emerald green and silver. A banner depicting a snake hung over it. The word 'slither' formed on Dave's tongue, and it hit him that he was looking at the Slytherin table. He saw Pansy and Blaise sitting there with a couple of others, deep in conversation.

An old woman sitting in the center of the dais stood up, and a silence fell upon the great hall.

In front of the dais was a stool, and atop it was a dirty old hat Dave jumped slightly when a wide gash suddenly opened and the hat began to speak:

_In these evil times,_

_There's no time for song._

_Darkness lurks outside these walls_

_But is growing in our hallowed halls_

_My songs have warned of tribulation_

_But alas, we are victims of hesitation_

_Disbelief and blatant lies_

_Have overshadowed my urgent cries_

_To unite as one._

_Once again the time is here_

_To make my simple opinion clear_

_That though four houses you may be_

_We must be one family, to be free_

_Four houses we are, named by wizards of old_

_I'll start with Gryffindor, the noble and bold_

_Followed by Hufflepuff, the fair and loyal_

_Who aren't afraid of sweat and toil_

_Then there's Ravenclaw the witty and smart_

_And of course, Slytherin, with the ambitious heart_

_However if I made the rules there'd be only one_

_But I don't, and thus my speech is done_

_Without further ado, let the sorting begin_

_And pray we're all alive next year to do it again._

A long, grim pause followed the hats words, followed by a growing murmur among the students.

"Before we sort the first years, we have a new student who is quite a bit older. Will David Piermont please come up to be sorted," said the woman, the hall fell silent once more.

Hesitantly, Dave got out of line and walked down the center of the great hall, up to where the woman was standing, the hat in her hands.

"Please take a seat on the stool," she instructed. Dave did so with apprehension.

"Unbelievable," said the hat. "Back so soon?" The words caught Dave off guard, for he didn't hear them in his ears, but rather in his head.

"What do you mean?" thought Dave. The hat laughed lightly and continued to probe through Dave's mind.

"Pay me no attention," muttered the hat. "I'm simply fascinated by your story. You may want to look at some of the portraits in the headmistress' office when you get the chance."

"What for?" demanded Dave. Rather than speak aloud, he thought the words in his mind, as it seemed like the right thing to do.

"Oooh, nosy aren't you. I know much more than it appears young David. I know of your apprehension to be here. I know of your need to prove that you can succeed in this world, despite your late start. I know that you've recently acquired a will to show that your parentage doesn't affect you. I know you have powers. Raw, untapped powers that can give you great leverage when dealing with your peers, and perhaps be great leverage in the coming war. You are an interesting one young David. A mix of boldness and cunning, ambition and intelligence. Wonder and fear. A mind not quite unlike your friend Harry Potter's. He would have done well in Slytherin, if I remember correctly. You would too."

"You think I'd do well there?" asked Dave.

"Yes, you would do incredibly well in Slytherin," assured the hat. "I can sense it. You want to do well, don't you. You want to test the limits of your magical powers. It happens in people like yourself. I've been the sorting hat here for a thousand years, and I've seen people like you in the past. You've gotten a taste for muggle life, and muggle drudgery. You are yearning to explore further, to dive into the deepest secrets of your new found powers. You especially seem to be gifted in the powers department. You'll soon find out why. I'm going to put you in SLYTHERIN!" called out the hat.

There was a smattering of applause as he took a seat at the Slytherin table, next to Pansy and Blaise. He looked across the table to Harry and his friends, as if to apologize. They simply shrugged and smiled back. Maybe being in Slytherin would be okay.

_12: The Inquisition_

"So gracious of you to join us," said Blaise as Dave took a seat next to him. "I suppose I should introduce you to your new family. This is Theodore Nott," Blaise gestured towards a mousy looking kid sitting across the table.

"Hey," said Dave, putting out his hand. Nott shook it tenuously.

"This," continued Blaise, "is Crabbe and Goyle." They were seated to the right of Nott. Too far for a handshake, Dave nodded his head in acknowledgement. The two of them answered back with vacant expressions.

"I suppose I should properly introduce myself to all of you," said Dave, looking around at the group. "I'm David Piermont. I'm from a small town in Hampshire. Nothing really special I guess."

"Except for the fact that you seemed to develop magical abilities maybe fifteen years late," observed Nott. "How did you survive muggle schooling for so long?"

"I didn't," said Dave, almost too quickly. "I was home-schooled."

"What did your parent's teach you if it wasn't magic?" asked Blaise, suddenly more interested than before.

"Normal… wizard stuff," said Dave dismissively. "They couldn't really teach me spells, but I still learned a little bit about potions, astronomy…"

"So your parent's are both wizards then?" asked Pansy, speaking up for the first time.

"Yep," lied Dave.

"I guess they were relieved when they found out you weren't a squib," said Nott.

"Um… yea, they were so happy they were crying," said Dave. He had no idea what a squib was, and hoped it wasn't a trick question. Nott seemed satisfied with Dave's response and the conversation steered away from him and onto other topics, most of which Dave knew nothing about.

Once the feast had come to an end, McGonagall got up to give her beginning of term address.

"I, as well as the rest of the Hogwarts staff, are grateful to all of you who have decided to return this year. We live in a dangerous time and your bravery and dedication to this school and your own academic well-being will be remembered in generations to come.

Hogwarts… almost didn't reopen this year. In fact, towards the beginning of the summer, closing the school was the more favorable option. However, certain individuals on the staff, and on the board of governors would not stand to see the school close, for it would not only be a sign of weakness, but a poor way to remember the man who died to protect this school and the people within its walls.

As usual, we have changes to the staff this year, as we do every year. As you all saw when you received your Hogwarts letters, Professor Flitwick has been promoted to the new Deputy Headmaster." The speech was broken by a smattering of applause, to which little Flitwick simply chuckled and waved.

"The new head of the Slytherin house," continued McGonagall, "will be Professor Slughorn," she was interrupted again to another bout of applause. "As I am now the Headmistress, Professor Hagrid will replace me as the head of the Gryffindor house." Another outburst of applause, louder than all the previous ones combined, rang throughout the Great Hall. McGonagall put her hand up, indicating she wanted silence, then continued, "Hogsmeade trips this year will be restricted to 6th and 7th year students only," a collective groan ensued. McGonagall silenced the hall once more. "There will also be less of them. Extra security measures have been placed around the school, as well as extra procedures. Anyone caught out and about after curfew will spend a week in detention the first time, and the second time will find themselves either suspended or expelled. There are no exceptions to this rule, and no excuses." If she had wanted silence before, she certainly had it now. A grim veil of stillness seemed to descend upon the Great Hall as students glanced nervously at one another, silently confirming that they heard correctly.

"Filling in the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is Professor Dawlish, an Auror from the Ministry. Despite my new duties as Headmistress, I will continue to teach N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration. O.W.L. level classes will be handled by Professor Tacitus." The strange man who had sold Dave his wand stood up on his chair and waved happily to the students.

"The Ministry of Magic has reinstated the High Inquisitor," said McGonagall frowning. "However, the High Inquisitor isn't just for Hogwarts, it is for the entire country. The High Inquisitor, luckily, is Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was a friend of Dumbledore's. The High Inquisitor, or one of his inquisitors will personally come through Hogwarts without announcement and inspect security. While the punishments for being out of the dorms after curfew are significantly harsher than before, punishments handed out by the inquisitors will be much worse. If you are caught sneaking about the castle after curfew and by sheer misfortune the Inquisition is also inspecting the castle, and there will be no warning if they are, you will spend the night in a cell at the ministry, and pending a judicial hearing, you may even find yourself expelled. The Ministry isn't taking any chances with this. I tell you about the inquisitors now, so you aren't surprised when you meet one while sneaking down to the kitchens at midnight."

"High Inquisitor Shacklebolt has graciously provided us with a list of inquisitors who may be randomly showing up at Hogwarts. He has provided us with this list in order to establish trust. His job is to protect you, not police you. Aurors Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor Moody, as well as Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley make up the staff of inquisitors that will come in and out of Hogwarts. While they are familiar and friendly faces to all of us, they are not to be taken lightly. They will not cut a break for anyone, and I assure you, you will be seeing a side of them you didn't know they had in the coming months.

Finally, I'd like to stress the importance of some other rules that are often overlooked. The Forbidden Forest is still forbidden, but now entrance into the forest will result in immediate expulsion. Furthermore, other than a few specific individuals," McGonagall nodded towards Hagrid. "Any teacher who enters the Forbidden Forest will also be terminated."

"Our caretaker, Argus Filch would like me to remind all of you that there is a list of items forbidden within the walls of Hogwarts. The list is posted on his door. There is also a second list, posted on the bulletin board in each common room of items that are forbidden by order of the Inquisition. If you are found with any of those items on your person, not only within Hogwarts, but on the grounds or in Hogsmeade, or Diagon Alley for that matter, you will be interrogated, and again, quite possibly expelled. Depending on what it is, you may even be imprisoned. I can not stress enough the dire situation we are facing. These new, harsh, security measures were taken up as a compromise for opening the school. However, I suggest that you don't dwell on the issue. Follow the rules and you will be alright, and unless anyone wants to add anything, it is time for bed."

"Slytherin, come this way," called Pansy, standing up. A couple others from the table, all bearing badges with a green letter 'P' stood up and began ushering everyone in the house towards a door on the far side of the entrance hall.

_13: The Shrieking Shack_

Over the next few weeks, Dave not only surprised his teachers with his aptitude for magic, but was quite astounded himself by the sheer size and mysteriousness that is the interior Hogwarts Castle.

However, despite his success at catching up to his age group (he was already half way through his third year material and it was only the third week of October), he found it difficult to control the temptation of using his powers. He found it easy to make new friends with people his age, particularly those in his own house, Slytherin, yet, he longed to show off his powers and impress his fellow peers.

The biggest problem was Blaise and Nott. They were nice guys, and good friends to Dave, but he couldn't help but feel like they looked down upon him, as if he was ordinary and boring. He would sometimes catch them conversing in private, muttering to themselves and taking notes about their meetings in a journal that Nott kept locked in his trunk at all times. He knew that there was a possibility that they were tied up in darker affairs than most students their age, but despite their crystal clear view on blood purity, and their ever apparent loathing for Harry and his friends, they didn't seem like the type who would go as far as actively work for the Dark Lord.

Being friends with them took a toll on his friendship with Harry and the others. He still talked with his friends from the summer every once and again, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione were constantly in and out of the castle, Ginny was overwhelmed with work from her N.E.W.T. classes, and the disapproval of his housemates made it increasingly more difficult for him to maintain friendships outside his house, particularly with students in Gryffindor.

After the first seven weeks of class, he barely spoke with them at all, and their friendship had dwindled down to casual greetings as they passed each other in the corridors.

On October 17th, Dave woke up and went down to the common room to see who else had awoken on the early side. Saturdays were ordinarily marked by two things; sleeping in and laziness, particularly among the students around Dave's age. However, today was a special occurrence as it was the first of a precious few trips to Hogsmeade that would be taking place over the course of the term. Despite his enrollment in lower classes, Dave was technically classified as a seventh year student, and allowed to go. He hadn't been to an all-wizard village since he and Harry had spent a hasty few hours in Diagon Alley during the summer, and was dying to get a real glimpse at the wizarding world.

"Hey, you're up early," came a feminine voice from the corner. Dave recognized it immediately as the voice of his best friend, Pansy Parkinson.

"Hey Pansy," said Dave, throwing himself into a comfy chair beside her. "Care to accompany me into Hogsmeade today? Show me around?"

"Why, I wouldn't dream of spending my day at Hogsmeade doing anything else," said Pansy, a smile threatening to break the cold exterior she always maintained.

"Was that sarcasm from the ice queen?" asked Dave, grinning broadly. Pansy threw a throw pillow at him.

"I'm touched by your kind remarks," retorted Pansy, this time the smile breaking through. "I had planned to do some shopping today. It'll be my last chance for awhile, now that they've cut back on trips. You're welcome to tag-along if you like."

"I'm honored that the great Pansy Parkinson would allow me the privilege."

"_Accio Pillow_," said Pansy. The pillow she had thrown returned to her hand. She turned and threw it at Dave again. This time he caught it and threw it back. This sarcastic battle of wits had been a part of their daily routine for a few weeks now.

Despite her quiet appearance when they first met, Pansy turned out to be one of the main icons of the Slytherin house. Dave found it refreshing, and found that being friends with people like Pansy made the transition into the wizarding world much smoother. Through Pansy, Dave became well acquainted with the other students in his house, as well as some of the professors. Even better though was the fact that Pansy's personality meshed nicely with Dave's own. The two of them would spend hours talking in the common room about anything from school work, to Quidditch, to Muggle stuff.

"Uh oh, looks like the fire is burning out," said Pansy, looking over to the dwindling embers in the common room fire place. "I swear those house-elves need to be replaced. They've been falling short a lot lately."

"Could it have anything to do with the old headmaster?" asked Dave, who had learned a great deal about house-elves from his friends in Slytherin, and Hermione. Pansy seemed to tense up, as she always did when someone referred to the tragic events of last term. Her boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, was responsible for starting the chain of events that had brought the school to where it was today. No one had heard or seen Draco, nor the teacher, Professor Snape who had carried him off since that night. The prevailing theory among the Slytherins was that the Dark Lord had killed him.

"Could be," shrugged Pansy, in an attempt to appear nonchalant. "The elves are only loyal to the teachers. They probably blame us for what happened and serve us as little as necessary." She returned her attention to the fire, taking logs and stacking them inside.

"Dave, can you grab my wand so I can light this?" she asked.

"No worries, I can do it," said Dave, reaching out to call forth his warm little friend. However, he stopped himself before a flame could appear, realizing that he still needed to hide his powers from everyone, including Pansy. He drew his hand back and into his pocket, pulling out his own wand. The recovery was clumsy, but Pansy didn't seem to notice.

"_Incendio_," said Dave. A light shot from the tip of his wand and into the fireplace, creating a blaze instantly.

"That's really good," commented Pansy, admiring the fire. "You've got quite a talent. It's a shame it took you so long to figure it out."

"At least I found out before it was too late," said Dave.

"I suppose. Too bad you had to suffer through all that Muggle stuff for so long."

"It wasn't that bad," commented Dave.

"You're entitled to your opinion," said Pansy shrugging. "But I would kill myself before having to learn about electricity, or microwaves, or whatever stuff Muggles use as a substitute for magic."

"At least your actually know the words," commented Dave. "Most of the people here don't even know that much."

"Should've been in Ravenclaw," said Pansy, shrugging and gazing back to the fire.

"We should get going," said Dave. "Unless you want to wait till the afternoon trip."

"No, we should go now, so we have time," agreed Pansy. She picked up her wallet and a small bag, and the two left the common room.

Hogsmeade, to Dave, was a wondrous place. It looked like it had come straight from a fantasy novel. Though only a few people were ever out and about during these dangerous times, the sight of witches and wizards, young and old, in robes, roaming the streets, carrying wands, inspecting quills and owls, conversing over flaming drinks in pubs, and jinxing each other as pranks was a site Dave never wanted to forget.

"That's the Three Broomsticks," said Pansy, indicating a large pub to the left. As they came upon an intersection of two cobblestone walkways, Dave looked up the other street and his gaze fell on an ominous dark house, perched atop a hill in the distance.

"What's that?" asked Dave excitedly.

"That's the Shrieking Shack," answered Pansy, sounding bored, but amused at Dave's enthusiasm. "It's supposed to be the most haunted house in Britain."

"Are you serious?" asked Dave. "We _have _to go check that out."

"It's just a…" said Pansy, but Dave ignored her and grabbed her by the arm. The two turned and continued down the street towards the dark house on the hill.

"I wonder if the door's locked," said Dave aloud.

"Probably, though it wouldn't be all that hard to open," said Pansy. She drew out her wand and pointed it at the doorknob. "_Alohomora._" Nothing happened.

"That's odd," commented Pansy, trying the doorknob. "It must be sealed magically."

"Who would seal off a place like this?" asked Dave, walking over to one of the windows.

"Don't know," answered Pansy, "_Reducto!_" she called out. Red light struck the door and fizzled into the air. 

"It's protected by something alright…" commented Dave. "I wonder who put these enchantments up." He struck the window with his elbow and found that the old glass was unnaturally strong.

"We should go," said Pansy, "I don't think we can get in." Dave frowned and looked around the house. It was unusual looking. It was tall, maybe three stories, and quite narrow. From afar it would resemble more of an obelisk than a house. It gave the building a creepy, iconic sort of look that would have been terrifying in the right circumstance. Defeated, Dave was about to leave, but not before he glanced quickly at the door, as if trying to find some sort of hint. His eye's fell to a strange engraving on the door knocker.

"Hey Pansy, look at this," called Dave. Pansy came up the steps and looked at the door knocker.

"It's a phoenix," she said, shrugging. "So?"

"I don't know… I thought it was unusual," answered Dave. Compulsively he reached up and touched the knocker, quickly withdrawing it in pain.

"What happened?"

"It zapped me," said Dave. Eyeing the knocker curiously, he took it again and compulsively knocked three times. The knocker was made of rusted iron, but the sound it created seemed to bellow from inside the house. Nothing seemed to happen and they turned to leave when the lock clicked. Dave turned the knob and found that the door opened for him.

Inside it was dark and dusty. After bumping into two chairs and an overturned desk, Dave finally had enough. "Lumos," he said, brandishing his wand. Instantly the entire room lit up.

"This place…" started Dave, holding up his wand. "Is awesome."

"It is pretty cool," admitted Pansy, who walked over to the desk and opened up one of its cabinets. The two continued to look around the abandoned house.

"Dave, look at this sofa," said Pansy. Dave came over to her and bent down. Three of its four legs had been chewed so horribly, it was a wonder that the couch was even supporting its own weight.

"It looks like a dog did this," commented Dave.

"A big one," agreed Pansy. Dave stood up, and immediately threw himself onto the sofa. There was a deafening crash and a cloud of dust. The legs gave way under Dave's weight and the entire sofa fell to the floor.

"It's pretty comfortable," said Dave, laying his feet out on the floor and settling himself into the couch. Dave took his wand, which was still glowing, and wedged it in a crack of the floor board. Upon releasing his grip, the light went out.

"Wow, it's dark in here," said Dave.

"A bit."

"Take a seat. There's enough room here for one more."

"Why?" inquired Pansy.

"Maybe if we wait here long enough in the dark, we'll see a ghost."

"We see ghosts everyday."

"But not scary haunted house ghosts," corrected Dave. Pansy shrugged, and took a seat next to Dave.

"You're right, this thing is nice," said Pansy, settling herself into the cushions as well.

"I wish I could still see though," said Dave.

"You've got a wand," said Pansy.

"But I don't want to hold it up," complained Dave.

"Well don't look at me," said Pansy. Dave had an idea, but quickly decided against it. However, as he sat next to Pansy in the dark, the temptation grew until Dave couldn't say no.

"Pansy, I want to show you something," said Dave.

"What is it? And how am I going to see it?" asked Pansy.

"Well. First you got to swear you won't tell anyone…"

"Sure."

"Okay, close your eyes," instructed Dave. He couldn't see but assumed they were closed. He opened his right palm, and a small, dancing flame formed in his hand. He placed it up in the air and left it there to hover, giving a dim firelight to the room.

"What feels warm?" asked Pansy.

"Open your eyes."

"Oh my," said Pansy. "How'd you do that?"

"There is more to me than just discovering my powers late," admitted Dave. "Only my friends from Gryffindor and McGonagall know about it, but I want to show you too." Dave put out his hand again, and like the first, a dancing orange flame appeared out of nowhere.

"I can control and create fire," said Dave. He proceeded to create a second flame in his palm and made the two fly slow circles around each other.

"That's amazing," said Pansy breathlessly. "Why would you want to keep that a secret?"

"I don't know," admitted Dave. "McGonagall thought it would be a good idea."

"Well, I'll keep it secret if you want," said Pansy. "Though I'd like to see more."

Dave showed her more. He made little fire dragons and salamanders run in circles on his palm, a small fountain of flame, and an assortment of small, yet bright little shapes that seemed to dance to a silent, joyful tune in the palms of Dave's hands. He moved them into the air, and let little fire birds fly around the room, illuminating the old artwork and cobwebs along the walls as they went by. Pansy stared at the spectacle, eyes wide with wonder and awe.

"Dave, that was beautiful," said Pansy breathlessly. Dave suddenly felt a deep affection for Pansy that he hadn't ever given any thought to previously. He had been plunged into a brand new world full of excitement and mystery that he had put the most basic human emotions on the back burners in order to keep himself from being distracted. However, now that he was alone, in the dark with her, his suppressed feelings came over him.

"Pansy, can I tell you another secret?"

"Sure."

"When I was being sorted…" started Dave, unsure how to phrase what he was about to say. "I had hoped to be in Gryffindor, with my friends. But the hat kept saying that I'd do well in Slytherin. He said that Harry would have too, but Harry didn't want to go into that house. I realized that the hat would put me in whatever house I wanted, if I were to only ask, yet, I let it put me in Slytherin."

"I'm happy you joined our house, but why?"

"Well, I thought about my ambitions… I really did want to do well. But I also thought about you. When I first met you, you intrigued me. I wanted to know more, and now that I'm in Slytherin I've gotten to know you even better."

"I'm honored," said Pansy, unsure of what was happening.

The two sat in tangible silence for a moment longer.

"I think we're gonna be late," said Dave. "If only this shack had windows we could see if it was getting dark."

"We should probably leave then," said Pansy and the two stood up. Dave picked up his wand from the floor, and with a small flame, led them out of the shack. It was still broad daylight outside, maybe a little past one in the afternoon.

"Maybe we do have time to shop after all," said Dave, grinning. Pansy nudged him with her hip and walked down the hill back to town. Dave following close behind.

"That power of yours is amazing," said Pansy, as they walked down the street, past Honeyduke's chocolate.

"I wish I could practice using it," said Dave. "But I have no where to do it without someone finding out."

"You could always use the Room of Requirement," said Pansy, as they walked into a stationary shop.

"What's that?"

_14: The Room of Requirement_

The next day, Dave skipped History of Magic to go see the Room of Requirement with Pansy, who had a free period.

"We've got quite a walk," said Pansy, as the two left the common room. "It's up on the seventh floor."

"What exactly is it?" asked Dave, as the two continued on towards the moving staircases.

"It's a room that only appears when you need it," answered Pansy.

"So it's invisible to everyone else?" asked Dave.

"Only when not in use, or when you don't want anyone to know it's being used."

"Wait… so I go to this room, that will only appear if I want it to, and it will be whatever I need it to be?"

"Precisely."

"Sounds complicated."

"No one quite understands how it works," admitted Pansy. "But all you need to know is how to use it."

"Sounds perfect," said Dave. The two finally reached the seventh floor and Pansy led him over to a brightly colored tapestry depicting a wizard attempting to teach trolls to dance ballet.

"Is the door behind here?" asked Dave, indicating the tapestry.

"Nope, it's directly across the hall," said Pansy. Dave spun around and found nothing but a blank wall.

"So I guess the room's not in use?" asked Dave.

"Most likely. To open it, you need to think about what you need and walk past that section of the wall three times."

"Then a door will appear?" asked Dave.

"Exactly, and inside that door will be a room containing what you need, or equipped to do what you need."

"That sounds great. Let's try it."

"So first you need to figure out what you want," instructed Pansy.

"I want a room where no one will find me," said Dave, thinking aloud.

"Should be fireproof," added Pansy.

"Of course," agreed Dave, "It should have a place to sit as well…"

"Think of a place where you can practice your powers without being caught," said Pansy. "The room will know what to do."

Dave nodded and began pacing back and forth in front of the wall. Sure enough, on his third pass, a door appeared where none had been.

"Wow, this is cool," said Dave, reaching for the doorknob. He and Pansy entered the room and began to look around.

The room was rather large, and contained high ceilings. There was a large, comfortable sofa against one wall, with a wooden table in front of it. Next to that was a bookshelf containing an assortment of books about fire and fire creatures. Across from the sofa was a fireplace, with a fire already blazing.

"This is perfect," said Dave looking around. His gaze fell on the wooden table. "I wonder," mused Dave as a flame grew in his hand. He tossed it to the table. The flame landed lightly on the surface, but the table didn't burn.

"Looks like a good place to try things out," said Pansy, looking around. "The room even gave you targets to hit on the back wall." Dave turned to look and sure enough, painted on the back wall were three sets of concentric circles, painted at different heights.

"They're kind of close," said Dave, looking over to Pansy.

"Look again," she said smiling. Dave turned back and to his astonishment, the room was now twice as long as it had been before.

"I love magic," said Dave, forming a fireball in his hand. Suddenly he drew back his arm and flung it as hard as he could. The flame left his hand and like a bullet, shot towards the back wall, dissipating upon contact. A blue dot appeared where the flame had hit, nowhere near the center of any of the three targets.

"Guess I need practice," said Dave, grinning. He walked over to the sofa and plopped himself down. Pansy came over and sat next to him.

"How many people know about this room?" asked Dave.

"The room's been used a lot over the last couple of years," she said. "Two years ago your Gryffindor friends held meetings in here to teach themselves Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"What about last year?" asked Dave. Pansy's features seemed to tighten, reverting to the hard, cold expression that most people associated with her.

"Was it Draco?" asked Dave.

"Draco used it to hide his work," said Pansy stiffly. "And he also used it to hide the Death Eaters while they entered the castle."

"It seems that everyone in Slytherin seems to be supporting Voldemort," said Dave. Pansy winced upon hearing the name.

"There are a lot of purebloods in Slytherin," admitted Pansy, "and a lot of them believe in what the Dark Lord's doing."

"Do you?"

"The Dark Lord has absolute power," said Pansy, shivering slightly. Dave thought about making the room warmer. He looked over and saw that the fireplace had doubled in size. "When he takes control, he'll kill anyone who stands against him."

"Do you support him?"

"In my current situation, I have no choice," said Pansy.

"We always have a choice."

"A pure-blood like you has a choice," corrected Pansy. The implications of that statement hit Dave like a thunderbolt.

"Wait… you're…"

"Please don't hate me," begged Pansy, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm only a half-blood. My family hides the shame as best we can, but that's the truth. My mother was a Muggle-born. She was put into Slytherin and pretended to be a pureblood like everyone else. She met my father, a pureblood, at Hogwarts. He didn't find out the truth until they were already in love. To this day my family pretends to be pureblood. If anyone in Slytherin found out…"

"That would be it for you. Especially after years of lying," said Dave, finishing her sentence.

"No one in my family has ever, or will ever work for the Dark Lord," said Pansy. "But we must pretend to at least agree with him, for our own safety."

"I never would have…"

"You don't hate me do you?"

"For what?"

"For not being pure."

"Pansy, can I let you in on another secret?" asked Dave. Pansy nodded and moved closer to Dave.

"I'm not a pure-blood." Pansy's eyes went wide with wonder. 

"Are you half?" she asked, speaking quickly.

"Not even half," said Dave, smiling nervously.

"You're a M-Mudblood?" stammered Pansy in disbelief.

"Why am I a Mudblood, yet your mother is a Muggle-born?" asked Dave, trying his best not to sound antagonistic.

"Sorry… habit," said Pansy, softening her voice. "You're just full of surprises aren't you?"

"You've got quite a few, yourself," observed Dave, smiling down at her.

"Dave, you don't understand what you're getting yourself into," said Pansy, resting her head on Dave's shoulder. Dave stayed silent for a moment, but then shifted to face her.

"Hmm? What don't I know?"

"Blaise and Nott," started Pansy. "They aren't just ordinary guys. They're deep in the dark arts. They want to join the Dark Lord once they finish with school."

"Harry told me once, that the Dark Lord is a half-blood himself," said Dave.

"Half-blood, pureblood, Muggle-born, those are words reserved for humans," said Pansy. "The Dark Lord is much more than that. He has powers that are beyond human capabilities. He is faster, smarter, and even stronger than any human. He can look into your very soul and conjure up your worst nightmares. He has even found a way to defeat death." Dave's eyes were wide with astonishment.

"How…" started Dave. He couldn't find the words to describe what he was feeling. His idea of the Dark Lord had suddenly become much more horrific than it had ever been before.

"How is it possible to defeat him, if he can't die?" asked Dave.

"It's not, and that's why my family supports him with silent consent," said Pansy.

"How can a single person be so powerful?" asked Dave quietly to himself.

"You're quite powerful too, you know," pointed out Pansy. Dave snapped out of his state of awe.

"I can't imagine being like that though," said Dave. "To have that kind of power. To have the knowledge that creates it. There is more to magic than I've ever dreamed of."

"Imagine if you were as powerful as the Dark Lord," said Pansy.

"I wonder if I could be," said Dave. "I certainly have a unique gift no one else has…"

"It would be a pretty ambitious goal," stated Pansy. "A lot of practice."

"I have a wonderful room to do it in," said Dave.

"Hat knew what it was doing when it put you in Slytherin," said Pansy smiling.

"Magic is too amazing," said Dave, creating a flame in his hand. "So much to it. So many mysteries to uncover."

"You're one of those mysteries," observed Pansy.

"You're right. I wonder why I was given these powers…"

"Perhaps you were meant to defeat the Dark Lord," offered Pansy.

"Nah, Harry is the one destined to do that," said Dave. "I wonder though…" He looked up at the back wall. He flung the ball of fire straight back, hitting the target dead center. "…How involved do you think Blaise and Nott really are?"

_15: Professor Dumbledore_

"Now class, I assure you, this simple spell isn't all that difficult," squeaked Tacitus from atop his desk. Dave as well as the Slytherin and Ravenclaw third years were all practicing turning tortoises into teapots and back.

Despite the new security measures, and the constant presence of the Inquisition, Dave had made a habit of sneaking up to the Room of Requirement whenever possible. Sometimes, when an Inquisitor was patrolling the school, he would even spend the night inside. In the few weeks since Pansy first showed Dave the room, he had mastered the basics of his powers, and was now seeking new ways to use them, as well as discover powers he didn't know he had.

However, all the energy and focus he put into his own powers had detracted quite a bit from his schoolwork, and Tacitus's latest assignment was proving to be quite a bit more difficult than he had anticipated.

"You need to refine the motion a bit," said Tacitus, coming over to Dave. "This isn't charms, you don't need to have such a defined swish in your motion." He then withdrew his wand and proceeded to demonstrate, a quick swish to the right and a sharp flick. Dave tried again, this time trying to mimic Tacitus's movements as much as possible.

"Closer," observed Tacitus cheerfully as he peered at the teapot, which seemed to be functional. Tacitus ran his finger along the surface and jumped back, startled when the spout receded inside of the pot.

"Well, it's a start," said Tacitus, smiling broadly. "You'll get there, just a little more practice." He turned to help another student when there was a knock on the door.

Harper, a Slytherin a few years Dave's minor walked in. "I'm supposed to get Dave," he said, holding a note. Tacitus summoned the note out of Harper's hand and read it silently.

"Looks like Professor McGonagall wants to speak with you," he said, smiling brightly. "You know what you need to do tonight. I'll see you in class tomorrow." Dave nodded, and packed up his stuff.

"What does she want?" asked Dave curiously as Harper led him up to the Headmistress's office.

"Don't know," admitted Harper. "She asked Slughorn to send you to her as soon as possible, and he sent me to get you."

"Probably too lazy to do it himself," mused Dave.

"Well, he was teaching my potions class," explained Harper. Dave nodded and continued to follow. Harper led him to a statue of a large gargoyle.

"Does it need a password?" asked Dave.

"Yea, but I don't know it," admitted Harper. "I forgot to ask."

"You needn't bother," came a voice from the corridor. "I'm here." Professor McGonagall came up to them from down the corridor, a large scroll of parchment in hand. "You can go back to class," she said to Harper, who promptly turned and walked away.

"Manx," said McGonagall. The statue began to move, exposing a staircase. Dave followed McGonagall up the stairs and into a large room full of strange objects, many of which seemed to move on their own. Also present were old broomsticks, quaffles, a small glass display case housing a strangely dormant golden snitch, and an array of portraits of old witches and wizards, all asleep and snoring loudly.

"David," started McGonagall, sitting in a large chair behind her desk. Dave sat down in one of two large chairs facing her. "With the Inquisition, and securing the school, I haven't yet had a chance to talk with you about your unusual abilities."

"I've been working with them for the last few weeks," said Dave. "I'm getting better at controlling them."

"That's wonderful to hear," said McGonagall, "Have you had anymore of those strange dreams?"

"Actually, no, not since the summer," said Dave.

"And to what extent can you use your abilities?"

"Well, I can create and control fire, and I'm pretty good at getting it to do what I want. I can make shapes with it, throw it, sustain it without fuel; even make it move."

"Have you noticed any other strange powers?" asked McGonagall.

"No, should I be?" inquired Dave.

"I don't know," admitted McGonagall. "I'm trying to understand what your powers are, but I have searched volumes of books and have found nothing."

"Maybe, I can take a look at him perhaps?" came a soft-spoken voice. Dave turned his head, looking for its source.

"David, I would like to introduce you to my predecessor, Professor Dumbledore." McGonagall motioned towards a large portrait on the left wall, positioned above a glass display case, housing a ruby-encrusted sword.

Dave looked at the portrait. As his gaze moved towards the man's face, he was suddenly bombarded by strange images. He found himself back in the stone room, staring into the same face, outlined by the flames of the central brazier. The sweet, soft melody of the crimson bird worked its way into the crevices of Dave's mind.

"David," came a female voice. Dave felt a hand grab his shoulder and pull him from the room. He shook his head and blinked a few times. He was still in the chair, staring at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.

"David, are you alright?" asked McGonagall, removing her hand from his shoulder.

"Yea… I'm fine…" said Dave, rubbing his temples. "So you're Professor Dumbledore?"

"Indeed I am," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"I think I saw you in a dream once," said Dave.

"Can you describe it for me?" asked Dumbledore. His eyes flashed over his half-moon spectacles, and Dave felt the familiar tug trying to pull him back into the stone room, but this time he resisted.

"Well…" started Dave. He tried to remember the details from his dream, but suddenly found it cloudy and impossible to describe. "I can't really describe it… I guess I don't remember it too well."

"What do you remember?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, a stone room, fire, your face, and I think other faces too…"

"Interesting… anything else?"

"A bird," said Dave, as if he had an epiphany "A big red bird."

"A phoenix?" asked Dumbledore, stroking his beard in thought.

"I don't know what that is," admitted Dave. "It lived in a brazier full of fire."

"A phoenix indeed…" mused Dumbledore, apparently deep in thought.

"Do you know what it means?" asked McGonagall, looking up at his portrait.

"No," said Dumbledore, after a pause. "I need time to think. David, if you have any more of these dreams, I want you to let Professor McGonagall know as soon as possible."

"Yes sir," said Dave.

"As soon as possible means when you're allowed to leave the common room," clarified McGonagall. "This is a matter of interest, not urgency. Do not risk getting caught out after curfew."

"I'll be careful," assured Dave.

"You may return to your classes now," said McGonagall. Dave nodded and left.

16: The Glass Wall

Dave was back in the stone room, but it seemed colder and darker than before. He looked to the center and saw that this time around, there was no fire, only the phoenix, perched on the rim of the brazier. It stared at Dave through its bright eyes, following his movements as he approached. As Dave got nearer, the bird opened its wings and with a single flap, threw itself into the center of the brazier, a roaring flame erupting around it. The blaze was intense and Dave recoiled as a wave of heat hit him. He struggled to open his eyes, but the fire was too bright for him to look. Images began to flash through his mind. First there was Dumbledore, then another wizard, then a witch, then another wizard. Faces and faces ran through his mind, making him dizzy and disoriented.

Failing to maintain balance, Dave fell forward, onto his hands and knees. The images subsided, and Dave looked up at the brazier, the intensity of the blaze lessened. The bird stepped out of the flames and perched itself on the rim once again and looked down at Dave on the floor.

Suddenly, Dave felt himself awaken, but the bird was still perched in front of him. Dave broke eye contact and looked around. He was in his bed, in the Slytherin dormitory. He looked back to the bird, who was perched on the far left bedpost. The bird hopped onto Dave's stomach, his muscles clenching under the weight. The bird bent down, moving its face directly in front of Dave's.

The two stared at each other for a few moments when suddenly, without any warning, the bird flapped its wings and landed on the floor. It proceeded to walk to the doorway. It stopped, turned to look at Dave, and then continued walking out of the dorm and into the common room.

Unable to think of an alternative, Dave followed the mysterious red bird. It walked over to the fireplace and flapped its wings. The fire turned green. The bird turned to stare at Dave again briefly, before stepping inside the fire and vanishing.

Dave went over to the fireplace and bent down, looking into the green flames. The bird was nowhere to be seen.

Just as he was about to stand up, a red and gold feathered head erupted from the fireplace. Its beak latched onto the collar of Dave's shirt and pulled him in. When Dave stood up again, he was in the Room of Requirement, as it was whenever he practiced his powers. He looked back to the fire and found that the flames had resumed their normal colors. The bird walked into the center of the room and abruptly stopped. It was then that Dave realized that the room was split in half by a solid wall of glass that stretched from floor to ceiling, wall to wall.

The bird tapped the glass with its beak three times, as if to indicate that it was solid. It looked back to Dave and then in a flash of fire, disappeared, only to reform in a blaze on the other side. Dave walked over to the glass and put his palm against it. It was quite solid, and felt cool to the touch.

Dave stepped back and threw a fireball at the wall. The flame dissipated harmlessly against the surface. He walked over and tapped it with his knuckle three times. The bird, which was staring at Dave from the other side, cocked its head and then tapped the glass with its beak three times again. Dave tried pushing the glass, melting the glass, and he even threw a log from the fire at it, but nothing could seem to break it.

The bird tapped the glass again, as if to mock him. Getting angry, and longing to be on the other side, Dave formed another fireball. As he drew his arm back to throw it, the flame suddenly surged and engulfed him. When it cleared, he was with the bird on the other side of the glass.

Dave turned and was startled to find that the other side of the glass wasn't the other side of the Room of Requirement, but instead, it was the room from his dreams. He turned to look at what had become his favorite room in Hogwarts, before turning and walking towards the center of the dark, and slightly chilly, stone room.

The bird hopped past him and into the empty brazier. Dave reached out and touched the bird on the head. It felt warm to the touch and somehow soothing. It was then that Dave realized that the bird wasn't as colorful as it had been in previous dreams and that this one somehow looked old and worn out.

Without warning, the bird erupted into fire. The flame grew at an alarming rate, and soon the entire room was engulfed in the inferno. Confused by the sudden change, Dave stumbled back and quickly caught on fire. It didn't burn him, but was incredibly hot to the touch. Dave squirmed in discomfort as he was consumed by the flame. Trying to regain sense of the situation, he looked to the bird, who was staring him directly in the eyes. The light of the blazing fire was enough to notice a single, glimmering tear drop falling from the bird's eye. As if it happened in slow motion, Dave watched the tear drop fall into the brazier. As it hit, the last image Dave saw before he blacked out was the bird before him disintegrating into ash.

Dave regained consciousness in what looked like a cathedral. The ceiling was high and large windows lined the right and left walls. The room seemed to be made of a grayish blue stone, and was lit only by sunlight pouring through the tall, narrow windows. At the far end of the room was an ornate mirror, framed in gold and standing on two clawed feet. Dave walked over to it, but found his motions more awkward then before.

The mirror was massive, as was the room. Dave stood directly in front of the mirror and jumped in surprise, for he wasn't human. He looked down at himself and realized that his body was that of the bird, except much younger. Dave returned his focus to the mirror, looking along the gold edge. He came across a carving about the top which read, "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi". Dave returned his gaze to his reflection and suddenly found the image in the mirror to be morphing. He turned his neck and looked at himself, but nothing had changed, he was still a red bird.

Perplexed, Dave looked back at his reflection, except this time, the mirror reflected him as a human, clad in his black Hogwarts robes. Dave's bird eyes locked with the human eyes in the reflection and suddenly, Dave found himself surrounded by fire once more.

This time, when he awoke, he was back in the Room of Requirement, outfitted for practicing his fire powers as usual. He looked himself over. He had returned to his human body. He dusted himself off, only to realize he was completely covered in soot and ash. Shaking his head, he looked around the room.

The glass wall was gone. Everything was as it should have been. As Dave's gaze panned about the room, his eyes rested on a single new object, standing next to the fireplace. It was a mirror, but it looked worn and had a large crack running diagonally from the upper right to the lower left corner. Dave walked over and peered at the glass. This one didn't show his reflection, but rather several dark shapes. As he studied them, he realized they were silhouettes of people, some more detailed than others. One in particular looked familiar to Dave, most likely because it was more detailed. The dark shape suddenly turned and focused its single white eye on Dave, a crooked smile formed on the figure's face.

_17: Prisoner_

Dave cracked open his eyes a tiny bit before shutting them tightly again. A blinding white light filled his vision, and even with his eyes closed, it still burned into his pupils. Dave turned his head and tried to move his hand up to block the intrusion, but found himself chained down and unable to move.

"Good, you're awake," snarled a man's voice from the white void.

"Where am I?" slurred Dave, still groggy from his lapse into the realm of unconscious.

"The Ministry of Magic," said the voice. The light dimmed and Dave opened his eyes. His vision, blurry as it was, seemed to be slowly adjusting to the dim torchlight of a new stone room. As his vision returned, he began to observe the details of his environment. He was chained, magically, to a wood and iron chair. Circled around him were ascending rows of empty seats, and directly before him, a dais, where five wizards, clad in grey robes sat and scrutinized him.

"What is your name?" asked the middle man, in a slow, deep voice.

"David Piermont."

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Where is _here_?"

"You are in a court room," said the man. "You are being interrogated by myself and four members of the Inquisition. You were found in the Room of Requirement, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, at approximately three o'clock in the morning." Dave remained silent, unsure of what to say.

"I suppose I will start with the most basic question," continued the man, who Dave could now see to be Kingsley Shacklebolt, the High Inquisitor. "Why were you in the Room of Requirement after curfew?"

"I don't know," answered Dave honestly.

Shacklebolt sighed whispered a question to a pink-haired woman on his left. The woman nodded and Shacklebolt scribbled something down on a piece of parchment in front of him.

"How did you enter the room?" he asked.

"Well…" started Dave, "I sort of appeared there."

"Where were you previously?" asked Shacklebolt.

"In a much bigger room," answered Dave, seeing no reason not to tell the exact truth. "It looked like a cathedral, and there was a gigantic mirror…"

"What kind of mirror?" snapped the inquisitor on the far right. Dave recognized him immediately as the one he saw in the cracked mirror.

"It was much taller than me… framed with gold… clawed feet… and there was an inscription on the top."

"What did the inscription read?" asked the one eyed man. His fake eye coming around to focus on Dave as well.

"I don't remember. It started with the word… erised…" The one-eyed inquisitor glanced over to Shacklebolt who shrugged his shoulders. "It was probably another manifestation of the same room…" muttered one-eye. Shacklebolt nodded, scribbling down more notes.

"This cathedral," started a man on Shacklebolt's right. Dave recognized him from Bill and Fleur's wedding. "How did you get there?"

"I just woke up there," said Dave, straining against his bonds to shrug. "and before that, I was in a stone room, much like this one, and before that I was in the Room of Requirement."

"Do you know how you got to the room the first time?" asked the man.

"I traveled through the fireplace in the Slytherin common room," answered Dave.

"It's impossible to travel by floo inside Hogwarts," interrupted Shacklebolt, "and even if you managed to find a way, our monitors would have seen it."

"I didn't travel by floo… I don't think…" said Dave, nervous and unsure of himself. "A bird led me into the fire."

"A bird?" asked the man on Shacklebolt's far right. Dave was delighted to finally see the familiar, and a little feral, face of Bill Weasley.

"Yea, a phoenix, I think," said Dave. "I woke up in the middle of the night, and he was standing on my bedpost. I followed him into the common room where he turned the fire green. I stepped into the fire and appeared in the Room of Requirement."

"Have you used the Room of Requirement before?" asked one-eye, still carrying an angry disposition.

"Yes," answered Dave.

"What for?" pressed one-eye.

"To practice my fire powers," said Dave, to his own horror. It soon dawned on him that he wasn't telling the truth on his own accord.

"I can explain," interrupted Bill. "Dave has some unique, fire-related powers. Very few people know of it. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you were using the room to practice without anyone knowing?"

"Yes," answered Dave, stiffly. Being magically compelled to divulge all that he wanted to keep secret made him feel dirty and used.

"David, are you planning to do something that will harm an individual, or group of individuals?"

"No," said Dave, trying his best to restrict his dialogue. He was not going to be used in this manner. He would tell the truth, but tell it in a way to distort its meaning from these five individuals.

"You are in Slytherin, correct?" asked one-eye.

"Yes."

"Are there any students in your house that are connected with the Death Eaters or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Yes, but what do you mean by connected? Most of them are innocent, but have a family member who is involved."

"Are any students themselves involved with the Death Eaters or You-Know-Who?" asked one-eye, reforming his question to make it more specific. Dave began to hate this man who was now making a sport out of twisting the strings of his mind.

"No," answered Dave. He knew that Blaise and Nott were involved with the dark arts, but as far as he knew, they weren't involved with the Dark Lord, yet.

"Very well," said Shacklebolt slowly. "Unfortunately, we can not release you yet. As of right now you are suspended from Hogwarts indefinitely, as per the new rules that have been established by the Inquisition. You will be held in a cell within the Office of Magical Law Enforcement, and will await a hearing later this week. Your wand will be withheld by the Inquisition, who will inspect it using Priori Incantatum, it will be returned to you if found innocent. These are the laws. Your answers today will be used as evidence both for, and against you, in this trial. Any questions?" Dave answered no and soon found himself wandless and pacing an eight by ten cell, all alone.

The room was outfitted with a single, small bed, and a toilet. The door was made of heavy iron and was rigged with a food slot and a window, both of which were shut tight.

Hours went by, and Dave, having grown tired of pacing back and forth, was lying in bed, facing the ceiling when there was a sound of rushing air, and a moment of intense heat close by. Startled, he bolted upright, but relaxed when he saw that the little red phoenix was standing before him.

"You've gotten me into quite a mess," said Dave reproachfully. The phoenix cocked its head to the side, one of its more characteristic gestures, and looked Dave in the eyes.

"I suppose you've come to get me out of here?" asked Dave, smiling in spite of himself; as if this bird understood a word he said.

The phoenix turned and walked to the cell door. With several mighty flaps of its wings, it flew into the air and tore the panel obstructing the window from its hinges. He then landed back on the ground and tapped the door with his beak three times. After that, he looked at Dave, and then disappeared in a flash of fire. Dave got up and rushed to the window to see that the little bird was now on the other side of the door.

"I wonder if I can do this," muttered Dave, trying to remember how he accomplished the seemingly impossible task the night before. He visualized the other side of the door, and formed a fireball in his hand. He drew his arm back and as he threw the ball, the fire surged around him, and soon he also found himself on the other side of the door.

"The ministry looks deserted," observed Dave as he walked down through the Magical Law Enforcement Department, following his little friend.

The bird led Dave to a fireplace. Summoning a small ball of flame, Dave ignited the remaining logs and allowed the flame to grow on its own. Once it was a satisfactory height, the phoenix walked over, and with a flap of his wings, rendered the flames green. Dave stepped inside and soon found himself surrounded by the Slytherin common room. Without hesitation, he ran into his dorm and roughly awoke Blaise and Nott.

"What is it?" Nott asked, propping himself up against his headboard and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I've got something to tell you guys," explained Dave.

"What's up?" asked Blaise, moving into a sitting position.

"Come down to the common room and I'll show you," promised Dave. The two shrugged and followed him out of the dorms. Dave surveyed the common room briefly, before choosing a secluded spot in the corner.

"What's going on?" asked Nott, sitting in one of the high-backed armchairs.

"I was caught by the Inquisitors," said Dave. Nott and Blaise exchanged looks of shock to the news.

"What were you doing?" asked Nott, lowering his voice. 

"I was in the Room of Requirement, learning more about my powers," explained Dave. He put out his hand and created a small flame. His two friends almost jumped in shock.

"Dave… what is this?" asked Blaise, curiously leaning in to inspect the small dancing fireball.

"It's a weird power I have," said Dave. "I don't know how I got it, but it has something to do with a phoenix that has been showing up more and more frequently. It helped me escape the ministry, and has been showing up in my dreams for months."

"A phoenix?" asked Blaise, looking confused. "Didn't Dumbledore have a phoenix?"

"Yeah, Fawkes," replied Nott. "You think it's the same one?"

"Could be," shrugged Blaise.

"Dumbledore had a phoenix?" asked Dave.

"Yeah," replied Blaise. "Why?"

"Well, in some of my dreams, I saw Dumbledore's face, before I had ever met him in person," answered Dave.

"I bet it's Fawkes," said Nott resolutely. "But why does Dave have these weird powers? And what does Fawkes have to do with it?"

"No one seems to know," admitted Dave. "But I'm powerful, and becoming more so every day."

"Really?" asked Blaise, he glanced over to Nott who responded with a look of warning. "What can you do?"

"Well… I can create, and control fire," answered Dave, "and I think I can teleport short distances, and travel through fireplaces without floo powder."

"Would you be traveling off the network?" asked Nott, his eyes narrowing.

"I think so… I told the Inquisitors that I traveled by the fireplace, and they were surprised because they didn't detect me," responded Dave.

"Interesting…" said Nott, deep in thought. "Maybe… Dave, what's your punishment?"

"I had to surrender my wand, and I'm suspended until they have a hearing," answered Dave.

"If they catch you back in school, you'll be expelled," warned Blaise.

"I was being held in a cell, they're gonna wonder where I've gone," admitted Dave. "It might be too late to clear my name."

"It's too late to go back to the ministry," observed Nott, glancing at an old grandfather clock against one wall. "There'll be people there to see you enter."

"I'll hide out at the shrieking shack," said Dave quickly. "I'll sneak back in tomorrow night."

"They'll re-interrogate you with veritaserum," warned Nott. "It may be wise to avoid the ministry all together."

"What option do I have?" asked Dave. "It's not like I can just turn myself in. _Sorry I broke out of jail after being found in the Room of Requirement, alone, at three in the morning, while staring at a foe-glass that depicted one of your aurors._ Like that doesn't make me sound like a Death Eater." Nott glanced at Blaise, who returned the gaze with a nod.

"Dave, hide out in the Shrieking Shack today. Don't leave no matter what. We'll talk to you again later this afternoon," instructed Nott.

"How will I get there?" asked Dave, standing up.

"You said you can teleport?" asked Blaise.

"I don't know. I had the phoenix leading me through it both times."

"Try teleporting to the table," instructed Nott. "Do whatever you did last time." Dave nodded and concentrated on a spot next to the table. He summoned a flame, which promptly engulfed him. When his vision cleared, he had moved all the way across the room, standing next to the table.

"That was incredible!" exclaimed Blaise, jumping out of his chair. Nott put his finger to his mouth, indicating the need to remain quiet. Blaise looked at him apologetically and bounded over to Dave.

"Now do that, but focus on the Shrieking Shack." Dave nodded and focused on the sofa where he had revealed his powers to Pansy. He summoned a flame, and in a flash of fire, disappeared out of the common room and reappeared in the total darkness of the Shrieking Shack.

_18: Immortality_

As Dave paced back and forth within the Shrieking Shack his thoughts drifted between two specific topics, Pansy, and the repercussions for escaping the Ministry. It was all too clear to Dave now that the Ministry's Inquisition, true to its name, was on a witch-hunt.

Despite being under the influence of veritaserum, Dave remembered the interrogation quite clearly, and knew that there should be no doubt in anyone's mind that he was not related in any way to the dark arts, or to the Death Eaters. Yet, they locked him up, took away his wand, and now that he had escaped, which in hindsight was probably a stupid thing to do, they would be after him. There would be no redemption for Dave now in the eyes of the Inquisition.

But what about in the eyes of Pansy? She understood Dave's desire for power, as she shared it herself. After all, they were both Slytherins at heart. However, Dave could no longer be a part of magic society. He was a fugitive now, and fugitives have a hard time fulfilling their ambitions. The ambitious must appear respectable and confident, in order to gain the support of their constituents. How could Dave become a top ministry official, or a headmaster of a school, or the owner of a big business, if the government was out to get him? Dave would have to return to the Muggle world, and even then, with the British government after him, he might even have to change countries. He hadn't even finished school, and no university would accept him without completing secondary school. His ambitions, hopes, and dreams had all come to a grinding halt.

It was a sharp, cracking sound that brought Dave out of the future and back into the present. He quickly snuffed the dim flame that had been lighting the room and listened intently. He heard footsteps, and they were approaching.

"Nott? Blaise?" called Dave, backing away from the entrance to the room, and bracing himself for an attack.

Like an angel rising from the pits of damnation, a pale, but beautiful woman, with eyes betraying an evil so deep-seated that it could easily be mistaken for insanity, appeared in the doorway. Her wand held aloft, and lighting the area around her, she approached Dave with dangerous feline grace and confidence, stopping only a foot away from him.

Dave's arms were at his sides, and ever so slowly, he created a small flame in his palm, positioning his hand so it was obstructed from the woman's view.

"There will be no need for that," said the woman. Her voice seemed to ensnare Dave's mind, and send an icy chill running up from the base of his spine. With a flick of her wand, Dave's fireball was dowsed in water. It crackled and disappeared.

"Who are you?" said Dave, shakily. The woman stepped back and Dave moved as far away from her as possible.

"I come on behalf of your two friends, Nott and Zabini," replied the woman. Her words seeming to snake their way into Dave's head in such away that eliminated all doubt as to whether or not she spoke the truth. Unable to find words, Dave nodded. The woman continued, "I serve the one who is not to be named."

"The Dark Lord?" asked Dave in surprise. He recreated the fireball in his hand, this time it surged with energy, and illuminated the space around him.

"The Dark Lord has taken an interest in your… unique abilities," said the woman, nodding at the fireball in Dave's hand. "Nott and Zabini have told him of your plight, and he is willing to help you."

"How can he help me?" asked Dave, his eyes narrowing. "Joining him will…"

"Only add accuracy to what the Ministry of Magic has already decided to believe," interrupted the woman. "You will be hunted down by the Inquisition and interrogated and jailed for years to come. You will be ousted from the magical world when, or rather, _if_ you're released. You will wander the Muggle world without an education, without money, and with no future worthy of your ambitions on the horizon."

"And the Dark Lord can change this?" asked Dave skeptically.

"The Dark Lord has defeated death itself," replied the woman, her eyes filling with unsuppressed emotion and reverence. "He is a god amongst wizards, who in turn are gods amongst Muggle filth. A god of gods. He will teach you his craft. Teach you magic no mere Hogwarts' professor could ever hope to comprehend themselves. You can become a god too, and become a member of the ruling class of this world when it succumbs to the Dark Lord's power."

"And in return?"

"Your service," answered the woman. "Your dedicated, unflinching, and unselfish service to the Dark Lord. You will donate your talents, and impressive power to his cause, and in return he will reward you with everything your ambitions thirst for and more."

"And my parent's? And Pansy? And my friends?"

"Those loyal to the Dark Lord shall not be overlooked, and shall be repaid in kind. The Dark Lord does not forget those who contribute to his success, no matter how small a role they play."

Dave's eyes narrowed. Did the Dark Lord think he was a pure-blood? He must. Only Pansy knew the truth. If he could somehow become as powerful as the Dark Lord…

"I have nothing," answered Dave. "Not even a future anymore…"

"The Dark Lord will provide you with one worthy of your greatness," assured the woman. Dave looked into her eyes and saw nothing but absolute confidence in every syllable she uttered. Her reverence for the Dark Lord was pure and absolute. She was the great paradox that symbolized perfect devotion. Her greatest dream and desire was to serve the Dark Lord, and he happily let her serve, creating the illusion that he was rewarding her, when in actuality he took everything she had. Dave knew that there would be no reward for his service. Not unless he took that reward himself. The power the Dark Lord could grant him would be the compensation, but it would be Dave who gave it value, by turning it back on its creator. He would take everything from the Dark Lord, and rule the world himself.

"I'll do it," said Dave. The woman smiled and crossed the distance between them.

"My name is Bellatrix," she said. "Now hold out your left arm and take your first step towards immortality."

_19: Focus_

Dave disappeared for three weeks. During that time, he dove headfirst into the darkest of dark.

Voldemort became a symbol of power to Dave; one to be both respected and revered. As he learned more and more about the craft of darkness, the extent of Voldemort's powers became known to Dave, piece by piece.

Voldemort's transformations were grotesque and decadent. He had forgone all that was left of his humanity long ago, and to try and place him amongst living creatures, Dave realized, was impossible. Dave had expected power to come to him by serving the Dark Lord, but now he was overwhelmed by such a force, that he began to doubt his ability to control it.

Dave was born and raised as a Muggle. When he transcended into the magical world, Dave had felt as if the mantle of a deity was thrust upon his shoulders, along with a whole new arsenal of abilities and powers with which he could forge any life he wanted. However, now that he was in the presence of Voldemort, he could not longer maintain the pretense that he was a god among men. He was a man among ants, and the Dark Lord was god.

The Dark Lord was omniscient in all matters. Dave could not lie in his presence. It was not a conscious decision, but a matter of instinct. The vestigial animalistic segments of Dave's human mind could sense Voldemort's gaze boring into his soul, and forced Dave into the mentality of a mouse cowering behind a rock, trying to avoid the hungry serpent.

Voldemort ruled by fear, but it was no fear Dave had ever known. It was an absolute fear. The kind that compels the human intellect to create intangible deities in which to find sanctuary, and the kind that is primal and innate. Conquering the fear Dave felt in his heart and mind was an even bigger task than conquering the spell work Bellatrix taught him.

In the three weeks Dave disappeared, his power soared to new heights. He experimented with his fire powers, under the tutelage of people whose names had become synonymous with evil, and whose faces were seen by the populace as beasts, rather than humans.

However, despite being taken under the wing of a half dozen different death eaters, all monsters in their own respect, Bellatrix proved to be Dave's most effective teacher, and after the first week, the Dark Lord declared that she alone would train him.

Train him she did. For two grueling weeks, Dave learned the craft of death, horror, and hate, slowly becoming a monster himself. All the while he worked on perfecting control of his fire powers. He could now teleport quickly and efficiently, and had complete dominance over the element of fire. He had even made progress towards perfecting his transformation between human form and phoenix form, and even the Dark Lord himself, on the rare occasion Dave would see him in person, commended him on his progress and quick learning.

Dave's final task was to finally complete the transformation and become a full fledged apparition of evil. He had to kill.

It was the moment Dave had dreaded ever since Bellatrix first introduced to him the Avada Kedavra curse. It was the most potent weapon in the arsenal of evil, and Dave had unsettled himself with his talent for performing it. However, the next time he would cast that spell, another life would be on the receiving end.

Dave's assignment was to murder a Muggle. Why this Muggle had to die was not known to him, but Dave assumed that if there wasn't a practical reason, then being a Muggle would have been enough. He had pushed his own past as a Muggle into the back corners of his mind, and had become completely lost in the monster he himself helped create.

The Muggle was a woman. She was middle aged and had no children of her own, only several cats. Dave was selected for the mission because of his unique ability to teleport, and because it would be easy.

The area in which this woman lived was watched constantly by the ministry. Dave did not understand why until he apparated into the general area and immediately recognized his surroundings.

The Dursley's lived nearby.

Dave moved quickly and quietly towards the house. He snuck around to the back, and began peaking in windows, trying to locate the bedroom.

As he did this, he heard a rustle of movement behind him. Automatically he spun around and launched a fireball at the area. There was a loud screech as a small cat, stumbled out of the brush. It collapsed onto the ground and gave a last feeble twitch before its life extinguished. Dave left the cat there to burn and continued to look into windows, finally finding the bedroom.

With a quick flash of fire he was inside the room. The heat seemed to bother the woman, and she rolled over. Dave withdrew his wand, which had been custom crafted by Mr. Ollivander, to replace the one the Ministry had confiscated.

While not a Death Eater nor a supporter of Voldemort, Ollivander was in many ways, a scientist of magic, and worked with Voldemort to uncover some of the magic's darkest secrets. His cold, academic interest in the mysteries of magic complimented the Dark Lord's chilling ideology, and though the two had many differences in opinion, particularly on the issue of blood purity, Voldemort and Ollivander shared a bond through scholarly interest. Ollivander was probably the only person working with Voldemort who matched him on the intellectual level, and the only one who could ever have a natural conversation with him. Everyone else was a yes-man of sorts, but Ollivander, in many ways, could be considered the Dark Lord's only friend; if he was even capable of having any.

Dave pointed his wand at the Muggle woman, and for the slightest moment, he hesitated. He looked down at her, sound asleep. Memories of his own Muggle upbringing rose up against him, but Dave shook the thoughts from his head and quickly dispatched her with Avada Kedavra.

He teleported back outside and shot the dark mark into the air before apparating away.

As he contemplated his first murder, Dave began to wonder what had become of himself. It was the first time in three weeks that Dave finally felt like he had some how lost himself to the dark manipulations of forces he never bothered to understand. His memories flashed back to Pansy. He wanted to be with her. She was a half-blood, he was a mudblood. Neither of them would fit into the mold of the Dark Lord's perfect world, yet her family provided consent via silence, and Dave was now one of Voldemort's puppets. Dave reflected on his own intentions. He found himself remembering why he had joined in the first place, and how in the last three weeks, he had let himself get so absorbed by the evil, that he had forgotten his ultimate goal, destroying the Dark Lord and taking his spot as the most powerful wizard in the world.

Dave would not settle to be an ordinary wizard, or Muggle; living day to day, paying bills, mortgages, taxes, driving kids to their quidditch games, picking out curtain colors, mowing the front lawn on Sundays. He wanted more for himself, and for the first time in three weeks, focus returned to Dave. He knew what he needed to do.

Dave glanced over at the calendar. There would be a Hogsmeade trip tomorrow. He pocketed his wand and disappeared in a flash of fire.

_20: Purebloods_

"Pansy, I need to speak to you," said Dave, coming up to Pansy in Hogsmeade the next day. His sudden reemergence into the wizarding world had visibly caught her off guard.

"Dave!" she exclaimed, grabbing him in a tight and friendly embrace. "We were worried sick about you! You've been gone for weeks, the entire Ministry's after you, they've got Inquisitors patrolling Hogwarts daily…"

"We can't talk here," said Dave calmly. "The Shrieking Shack?" Pansy nodded, cracking a small smile. The two quickly left the center of town, and started up the hill towards their hideaway.

"What's been going on Dave?" asked Pansy as they stepped inside. Dave placed some small flames in the air, lighting up the room.

"I've been training," said Dave brightly. He pulled out his new wand. "Like it?"

"It's gorgeous," said Pansy, inspecting it. "This is an Ollivander wand, but…"

"He made it for me."

"But Ollivander hasn't…"

"Hasn't been seen for more than a year," finished Dave, smiling mysteriously. "Hasn't been seen by common people." Dave lifted the left sleeve of his robe, the sinister dark mark glared up at Pansy.

"Dave!" exclaimed Pansy, jumping back in a mix of fright, worry, and disgust. "You…"

"I joined the Death Eaters," confirmed Dave. "And they were more than happy to have me."

"But you're…"

"What they don't know won't hurt me," said Dave smiling. "Pansy, when I got kicked out of Hogwarts, I thought it was over for me, but it's only just beginning."

"What are you talking about? They'll kill you when they find out, and your family, and your friends… including me!"

"By the time they find out, if they ever do, I will have become so powerful that they wouldn't dare rise up against me," said Dave. "I have been learning the Dark Arts, and I've been getting good at them too. I've even killed."

"Dave, you sound like a maniac," stammered Pansy, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"Don't you understand?" asked Dave, his excitement growing. "I have learned so much, and there's so much more to learn! With each passing week my power doubles! My ambitions… OUR ambitions are only an arm's reach away from us now!"

"Dave, I don't understand…"

"Pansy, I told you a while back that I joined Slytherin to get to know you… Well, I did, and I've sort of…"

Pansy came up closer to Dave and embraced him once more. "I understand," she said, "I feel the same way, but I'm a half-blood and you're a mudblood. The Dark Lord has no place for us. Helping him will only..."

"Which is why we'll never tell him," interrupted Dave, looking Pansy straight in the eyes. "Lying in front of the Dark Lord is impossible, but we don't have to lie, only not tell the truth. We wouldn't be the first, nor the last to hide our parentage. We could get married, become a powerful and respectable pureblood family, meanwhile, I would climb up the ranks of Death Eaters, finally getting all the way to the top. I will learn the Dark Lord's most hidden secrets, and then I will surpass him. I will be the most powerful wizard on Earth, even You-Know-Who will call me the Dark Lord."

"Will you kill all the Muggles?" asked Pansy.

"On my way to the top, many people might die," admitted Dave. "But in the end, it will be worth it. We must look out for ourselves first, then others. Once I take the Dark Lord's crown, no more Muggles will have to die, they aren't important enough to worry about. We will become rich, and respected, maybe even feared, but in a thousand years, they will talk about us just as they talk about Merlin, Gryffindor, and Slytherin now…. And who knows… maybe in a thousand years… we'll still be here."

"Immortal, just like the Dark Lord…" mused Pansy, a smile to match Dave's began forming on her face as she was faced with the prospect of eternal life.

Dave hugged Pansy tightly. She looked up at him and smiled. Dave bent down and kissed her. The two shared a warm, and passionate embrace for awhile longer, before the coming evening forced them to part.

"I need to get back to the castle," said Pansy, breaking the lip-lock. "One of us needs to graduate."

"Send me an owl when the next Hogsmeade trip comes around. It there isn't one soon I might just try and sneak into the castle."

"Just don't get caught," said Pansy, smiling.

"I've escaped them before." Pansy didn't respond, she simply smiled and left the shack.

_21: The Quest for Perfection_

"David," called Bellatrix, entering Dave's bedroom at the old Riddle house, the base of Voldemort's operations, "I have wonderful news!"

"What is it?" asked Dave, looking up from an old dusty spell book that Dark Lord had graciously provided him.

"The Dark Lord wishes to speak to you _personally_," she said, smiling vividly.

"I'm honored," stated Dave. "When do I see him?"

"Straight away," said Bella. "I think he wants to commend you on how far you've progressed."

"I've been working really hard," admitted Dave. "A little recognition from the Dark Lord would be great."

"Come, I'll take you to him," ushered Bella. Dave marked his spot in the book and left it on his bed. He followed Bella out of the room. All her poise and confidence was gone and instead was replaced by a childish giddiness he hadn't seen since he had last been at Hogwarts. The sudden shift in his teacher and mentor's demeanor was a little unnerving.

Dave followed her down into the basement of the house. As a fledgling Death Eater, he had always been forbidden to enter the basement. Being allowed down there now was a great honor, and he was heartened as it meant great things were to come his way in the near future. He descended down the dark, rickety staircase behind Bella with a renewed sense of enthusiasm he had been lacking ever since he came back from his first mission.

The basement was dark, cold, and dirty. The structure was supported by wooden beams that crisscrossed the ceiling and were spaced vertically along the walls every ten feet. It was poorly lit by candles, each one placed in a holder, each holder attached to each vertical support. Once Dave's eyes adjusted, the darkness wasn't too bad, but he had to move carefully, lest he knock into an unseen obstacle below his line of sight.

Bella stopped at the end of the basement, and tapped the wall in a complex rhythmic pattern. The rock slid out to the side, revealing a doorway that led into even darker abysses than they were currently in. Hesitantly, Dave followed Bella through the door, which led him down a straight and narrow hallway, which opened into a vast stone chamber. The Dark Lord was seated in a stone chair on the other side of the room, a small group of masked Death Eaters stood around him listening to what he had to say.

"Ah, David," said the Dark Lord. "I have wanted to speak to you. Loyal friends, young David here has been learning from our dear friend Bellatrix and a couple of days ago, completed his first mission!" The Death Eaters around Dave began clapping, and Dave could make out their cold, sinister grins from beneath their masks.

"David, I would like to personally congratulate you on your accomplishment," said the Dark Lord, rising from his chair. He strode over to Dave and casually rested one of his bony hands on Dave's shoulder. Dave shivered as he felt the Dark Lord's icy skin through his robes. The Dark Lord looked into Dave's eyes, and Dave felt as if he was being violated. Physically, he felt nothing, but Dave found himself remembering parts of his past, intimate parts, and he knew the Dark Lord was watching them like a show.

Images of Pansy and the Shrieking Shack passed through him, but they faded quickly. The Dark Lord didn't care about those. Dave tensed up as the remnants of Muggle memories flashed through his mind. Standing by as Dudley beat up kids on the playground, standing guard while Dudley bought weed from the guys at the university, sitting in the kitchen while Mr. Weasley explained the wizarding world, traveling through Diagon Alley with Harry. Finally the relentless flashes stopped. Fearing the Dark Lord would mention his impurity, Dave averted his gaze and braced himself for whatever was about to follow.

There was a long silence before the Dark Lord finally spoke up, a smile daring to play at the corners of his mouth, "David," he said slowly, returning to his seat. "I have a job for you."

"Dave, I want to go over the map again," said Bella, coming into Dave's room and unrolling a large piece of parchment, it depicted a large triangle, cut into thirds by three thick lines, each starting at a corner and meeting in the middle.

"I've been over it so many times I almost have it memorized," complained Dave, rolling out of bed and sitting at the small table where Bella was looking over a worn map of Azkaban.

"_Almost _memorized isn't good enough," said Bella. She took out her wand and held it like a pen.

"We've learned that they change the guard at seven," said Bella. "The guard's quarters are here." She circled one of the rooms on a map.

"I got it Bella," said Dave. "Azkaban is a triangle. The layout isn't all that complicated."

"The guards will travel down this hallway when they rotate out, while the new guards will enter from this one," she drew two arrows, one leaving the quarters, and one entering.

"Bella, there's only three hallways…"

"There are fifty floors…"

"And they're all identical," retorted Dave. "And at seven o'clock, the exact same thing happens on each. I go to the thirty-third floor, on the southeastern face of the building and teleport into the corner cell, where Lucius Malfoy is being held. I then teleport him out, where you portkey him back to this house, then you return with the portkey and I teleport into the next cell. We clear out the thirty-third floor of the southeastern sector before the guards finish changing. Then reinforcements arrive and keep the guards occupied while we clear out the forty-fifth floor."

"Good, I'm glad you remember the plan," said Bella, nodding her approval. "However, I need to prepare you to deal with our reinforcements."

"What do you mean?" asked Dave, his eyes narrowing.

"Have you ever heard of the Patronus charm?" inquired Bella, standing up.

"Harry told me about it once, I think," said Dave. "Why?"

"Our back-up isn't a discriminating force," said Bella. "They'll attack you just as quickly as they'll attack the guards. They should be on the lower floor, but if something goes awry, you need to use the Patronus charm to escape them."

"I thought we had Death Eaters masking our escape."

"No, not all of them have been to Azkaban, and the head guards are highly trained aurors. The potential loss outweighs the gain. The Dark Lord has decided to send Dementors instead."

"What are those?" asked Dave, nervously. "They don't sound good."

"They're monsters," confirmed Bella. "They feed off positive emotions, leaving you depressed and in despair. You feel like you'll never be happy again…. You relive your worst memories when you're around them… it'll take every ounce of will power to retain your sanity. If you're in their presence too long you'll lose your head completely, being prone to fits of hysteria and irrationality. Then you'll just wish for it to end… you'll wish for death… anything would be better than suffering through the mental anguish they impose on those around them… They're rattling breath will ring in your ears, and you'll see through a veil of dense… cold fog…"

"Bella, are you alright?" asked Dave, looking alarmed. Bella snapped out of her trance and looked at Dave, intelligence and coherence returning to her face.

"To summon the Patronus charm," started Bella, raising her wand. "You summon up your happiest memory… or just some thought that makes you happy. You focus on it and use the words: _Expecto Patronum!_" There was a flash of light and a large, dazzling white serpent shot out from the tip of Bella's wand and with astonishing speed, slithered up to Dave. He reached down to touch it, but it vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.

"Try it," said Bella. Dave raised his wand and tried to think of his happiest memory. He ran through his thoughts like a slideshow, finally resting on the first kiss he shared with Pansy. He couldn't help but crack a small smile.

Focusing hard on the memory, he flicked his wand in the same manner as Bella and shouted the words, "_Expecto Patronum!_" There was a flash of light and a bright white haze emanated from the tip of his wand, creating a sort of foggy barrier in front of him.

"Not bad for a first time," said Bella, admiring the white shroud, "but you need to practice. That might buy you a few seconds to run, but it won't repel them. When your Patronus is done correctly, it'll take the form of some sort of creature."

"What will mine be?" asked Dave, getting ready to try again.

"It's different for everyone," shrugged Bella. "However it is important that you master this by the end of the week."

"The end of the week?" stammered Dave, completely taken aback. "How?"

"You'll manage," smiled Bella, "or else." She turned and left the room. Feeling a little frantic, Dave went about casting the spell over and over again. By his ninth try, he managed to produce some kind of bird, but it faded away into smoke almost as soon as it had appeared.

"You need to refine your wand movements a bit," came the voice of an elderly man. Dave turned to find Mr. Ollivander entering the room. He took Dave's wand hand and moved it in a flowing motion.

"You've got to move more like this," he said, continuing to move Dave's arm. "Bella doesn't understand the fine points of magic, particularly a spell such as this. The Patronus is the embodiment of good will and joy. It is calm, flowing, and peaceful, not the sharp flick all these Death Eaters do. They're inability to understand the other side of magic is their greatest weakness."

"Mr. Ollivander, why do you work for the Dark Lord?" asked Dave, sitting down on his bed. Mr. Ollivander pulled up a chair and sat down, facing him.

"The Dark Lord has done some terrible things," he admitted, "but no one has taken magic to the level that he has. Not even Dumbledore would dare go where the Dark Lord has gone. I have no choice to be here. If I had resisted, I would have been taken by force. I decided that since I was destined to be locked up here anyway, I would come voluntarily and use the experience to learn some of the Dark Lords secrets, and to study the dark arts as they have never been studied before."

"You seem to like him," retorted Dave.

"Aye. The Dark Lord is not just some run of the mill dark wizard who uses magic to bully weaker adversaries to achieve material gains. He is a brilliant individual and is pushing magic to its limits for the sake of discovering the secrets that human beings have sought after for countless generations."

"What about his vendetta against Muggles?" asked Dave.

"He let you live," pointed out Ollivander. "He hates Muggles because they do not see as we see. The world of magic is not so well hidden that a Muggle can't find it if he knows where to look. The Leaky Cauldron is in plain view, as is St. Mungos and the Knight Bus, but Muggles don't see. They live in a mundane world, living a materialistic and empty existence. Life is too precious to waste like that. Life should be full of exploration and discovery. Every minute you should be expanding the depths of your mind and exploring the unseen and the unknown. Then when you die, others will take up the mantle where you dropped it and dive even further. The salvation of the human race as a whole, wizard and Muggle both, lies in that continual process to achieve total perfection. He hates Muggles because they're neither perfect, nor do they want to be perfect, nor do they have the ability to achieve perfection, if they did. They are an anchor that drags the human race down, preventing us from achieving salvation."

"I want the same thing," admitted Dave, after a brief pause. "I want to push my magic to its limits. I want to be perfect too."

"Which is why, though you're Muggle-born, the Dark Lord let you live, and other than telling me, will keep your secret. Most of these Death Eaters are disposable. They see perfect through the same warped lens that Muggles do, but they are loyal and strong, and make effective tools. However, there are a few out there, like yourself, who the Dark Lord sees as the epitome of the human race. You, I, himself, Severus Snape, who unfortunately is no longer with us, and others he has met along the journey to immortality are the ones the Dark Lord truly respects and cares about. If Lucius dies in Azkaban, the Dark Lord will replace him the same day. However, he sees the divine spark in you. You'll find that moving through his ranks will be easy, and the rewards will be unbelievable."

"My newest mission seems unbelievable," muttered Dave, pointing at the map of Azkaban.

"You are also unique because you are the only person with the ability to teleport," added Ollivander, studying the map. "Lucius and the others in Azkaban aren't worth much to us, but they are useful. We would have never attempted to break them out, if not for you showing up. With you, this task will be simple, and will greatly enhance the Dark Lord's efforts if successful."

"I'm a little nervous," admitted Dave. "I have to do this on my own."

"Don't be," said Ollivander. "The Dark Lord will never say this, but he cares more about you than the eight Death Eaters in Azkaban. He isn't worried, because you can escape, and they won't use deadly force on you, but if the Dementors turn on you, or one stray Auror does decide to use lethal force, the Dark Lord would prefer you to abandon the mission and save yourself."

"Is that what you came in here to tell me?" asked Dave.

"When we lost Snape, the Dark Lord took it rather hard. He will never understand love or friendship, but he saw himself in the two of us, and now that Snape is gone, he feels like he has lost a bit of his soul, though he refuses to attribute it to Snape's disappearance. I'm under his orders to tell you that you are more important than the mission."

"I guess I should feel honored…"

"I would," replied Ollivander. He turned and left the room.

22: Azkaban

As Dave and Bellatrix moved north, opting for broomsticks to mask their arrival, Azkaban began to appear on the horizon, rising from the sea.

The grim obelisk was a testament to the Machiavellian tactics of the human race, exposing a dark paradox: humans fought evil by scaring the masses with the looming threat of a greater torment, should they turn to the darkness. As the monolithic structure, almost a thousand feet tall, grew nearer, Dave couldn't help but question where the line between good and evil was truly drawn. Though he fought on behalf of the Dark Lord, this tower of terrors was an abomination made manifest by those who would call themselves pure and good.

The sun was towards the end of its journey across the sky and hung low and to the west, casting the southeastern face of Azkaban in shadow. This dark sector of Azkaban was where the eight Death Eaters were being held, four on the thirty-third floor, and three on the forty-fifth.

These eight Death Eaters, as disposable as they may be, were names that even a mudblood like Dave would recognize, for their infamy as mass-murderers did not go unnoticed in the Muggle world. Names like Dolohov and Mulciber had once graced television screens nation wide. When Jugson and Avery were caught seventeen years ago, their names were in bold on every newspaper in Britain, and even many in France.

Then there were names Dave recognized from his time among wizard society: Lucius Malfoy, a wizard philanthropist, and father of Pansy's ex-boyfriend, the now missing, but ever infamous, Draco, Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange, two brothers, one of whom was married to Dave's mentor Bellatrix, and Nott, the father of the same Nott Dave had once ate lunch with while at Hogwarts.

He thought back to his two friends, Nott and Blaise, and wondered what they were doing. They were probably studying for an exam, or practicing their dark arts in hopes that one day they too could bear the dark mark, as Dave did now. Their naïve outlook on the dark arts, and the Dark Lord was childish and amusing, now that Dave had experienced both in the extreme. Even in the presence of Azkaban, Dave couldn't help but crack a small smile at the thought of his old friends. One day, when this was all over, he would meet with them again and even for a little while, relive those innocent times, when good and evil were easy to distinguish, and a bad day meant serving detention, rather than nearly dying.

Bellatrix and Dave rose to the thirty third row of windows on their broomsticks. Bellatrix opened up a bag strapped to her broomstick and withdrew a handful of wands. One of the things Ollivander was famous for was remembering every wand he ever sold. Using that incredible memory to his advantage, the Dark Lord ordered Ollivander to recreate exact copies of the original wands the eight imprisoned Death Eaters once used. Each was tagged with the name of its owner, and Bellatrix's job was to hand the right wand to the right wizard, since Dave wouldn't recognize any of them. Each wand was a portkey that would bring its owner back to headquarters, where the Dark Lord was waiting for them.

"Dave, you know the plan. Let's get this done quickly, before the Dementors turn on us."

Dave nodded and Bellatrix lowered herself down to the ground, where she would be waiting. The sky grew dark overhead, and Dave felt the temperature plummet. The Dementors were coming, and even though he had never seen or felt one before, his basic animal instincts recognized a predator when it saw one. Dave turned briefly and gazed at the dark shrouded figures looming on the horizon, sucking all the warmth and happiness from around them, leaving a trail of ice and palpable despair in their wake.

Shaking the feeling, Dave teleported into the first cell.

The room was dimly lit by a single candle bracketed to the wall. As Dave stood up, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. As if it were happening in front of him, he could sense the agony of the room's residents, current, past, and even future. There was no physical evidence, yet Dave knew from the feeling in his gut that unspeakable horrors had happened in this room over the hundreds of years Azkaban has stood. Death and decay seemed to infest and permeate every crack in the floor, soaking into the mortar between each brick that held the room, and Azkaban up.

"Who're you," shouted a man angrily. Dave turned to see a dirty, gaunt man, sitting against the wall in the darkest corner of the room, his knees pressed up against his chest. He had long, dirty, matted blond hair that fell all over his shoulders and partially obscured his face. As he muttered angrily to himself, he rocked back in forth to the rhythm of his own voice.

"I'm David, I'm getting you out of here." Dave approached the man that was once Lucius Malfoy. He recoiled at Dave's advance, yelling obscenities while still attempting to talk to himself.

"I'm a friend," said Dave, lifting up his left sleeve. Despite the darkness of the room, the dark mark had never shown brighter or more clearly. Lucius looked up, and stared at the mark. His eyes had sunken far back into his head, and in the everlasting darkness, his pupils had dilated to the point where it was almost impossible to determine the color of his eyes. Dave didn't wait for Lucius to respond. He grabbed his arm and disappeared.

"Lucius," said Bella stiffly. She withdrew a black wand, the handle was silver and took the form of a snake. Upon seeing it, new coherence seemed to return to Lucius's face. He took the wand and disappeared. 

A new darkness had settled on Azkaban as the Dementors grew closer. It wouldn't be long until they descended on the prison, distracting the guards while Dave worked on the other floor.

Dave continued his operation, freeing Jugson and Avery in a similar manner. The final inmate on the thirty-third floor was Bella's husband Rodolphus.

His cell was just like all the others, a musty, ten by ten box lit by a single candle. Dave's appearance was met with violence.

He was immediately jumped by Rodolphus, who must have heard him freeing Avery in the cell next door.

"You'll never kill me!" he screamed, bringing Dave down to the ground. "You'll NEVER take me! I WILL LIVE FOREVER!" He punched Dave in the face. If he hadn't been so weakened by his stint in Azkaban, he may have done some actual damaged, but in his unhealthy, and frail condition, Dave was able to push him off easily and pin him up against the wall.

"I'm a friend," said Dave, showing Rodolphus his dark mark. His already dilated eyes grew wide with awe.

"He has come for me," he said, a massive grin splitting his skeletal face. "My lord has come for me at last!" He began laughing loudly, too loudly.

"You've gotta stay silent," hissed Dave, grabbing Rodolphus, and putting a hand over his mouth. Shocked by the sudden movement, Rodolphus broke away and ran to the other side of the cell.

"What's going on in there?" asked a tough sounding wizard. Dave lunged at Rodolphus and grabbed a hold of him.

"_Impedimenta!_" yelled the auror, who barged into the cell and stopped Dave before he could teleport.

"Who are you!?" He demanded, using a summoning charm on Dave's wand.

"The Dark Lord has come for me!" cried Rodolphus, laughing hysterically. He got out of Dave's hold and lunged at the guard.

"_Impedimenta!_" yelled the guard. Rodolphus stopped in mid-lunge and fell roughly to the floor. He gasped in pain upon impact.

The auror went to work summoning ropes to hold Dave, who was still dazed by the attack, and Rodolphus, who was again struggling to free himself and proclaim his joy at the Dark Lord's return. As Dave slowly regained sense of himself, he noticed the temperature of the room dropping drastically. The auror stopped, sensing the disturbance as well.

"Floor thirty-three, cell D, I need backup!" he called, using his wand to amplify his voice. Suddenly the color drained from his face as six Dementors stormed into the cell, surrounding everyone.

Dave's mind began to get hazy as he tried to call to the Dementors to release him. The auror fell to his knees, muttering incoherently, trying to follow the movements of the Dementors which were now circling around the three people in the room.

"You'll take me to the Dark Lord?" called Rodolphus gleefully. His joy didn't go unnoticed, a Dementor broke from the circle and swooped down upon Rodolphus, who, though tied up, was propped up in a sitting position.

"What are you doing?" he asked, an edge of fear creeping into his voice. The Dementor drew in a long, rattling breath. Rodolphus's eyes began to glaze over.

"No! Don't do this! I'm on _your_ side!" he began crying. "No! Please! No…" The Dementor lifted his hood and Dave became sickened by the sight of the faceless demon who now hovered over Rodolphus Lestrange. The Dementor bent down, placing his oddly circular hole of a mouth over Rodolphus's mouth and nose, muffling his desperate pleas for mercy. The sickening sound of rattled breathing echoed off the walls as Rodolphus, still attached to the Dementor's mouth, began to flail in a feeble attempt to break free.

Then all was silent, Rodolphus, still alive, though in another world, slumped back down, his eyes unfocused, and his begging ceasing.

"NO!" cried Dave. His reflexes overpowering his common sense. Another Dementor from the circle took notice of the sound and swooped down upon him. Dave tried to teleport, tried to create a fireball, and even tried to kick at the Dementor, but the power was being drained from him. The creature came down upon him and Dave found himself in complete darkness.

"David," came a soft feminine voice. An elderly lady holding a cat began coming towards him.

"You…" said Dave weakly. "You're…" He screamed as she came into view, nothing more than a rotting corpse. Her eyes were like yellow flashlights, and her skin was grey and hung loosely from her skeletal frame. In her arms was an equally grotesque cat, whose decaying flesh was marred by scorch marks. Her eyes fixated on Dave's and she lunged at him. Dave recoiled, and when his eyes reopened, the woman had been replaced by the Dementor, who was coming down upon him, hood off and mouth wide open.

"NO…" screamed Dave, as both himself and his scream were smothered by the Dementor's kiss. He felt his mind shutting down, and his body growing colder and colder, when there was a flash of white light.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" yelled Bella, who had blasted her way into the cell. A silvery-white serpent wrapped itself around the Dementor attacking Dave and pulled it off of him. Instantly he felt his mind return and the temperature rise.

The serpent coiled itself in front of Dave, hissing menacingly at the circle of Dementors, who abruptly stopped their attack.

"Back to your posts!" commanded Bella. The Dementors glided out of the room.

"Dave, are you… oh no… Rodolphus!" she ran over to her husband's soulless body. He made brief eye contact with her and muttered something incomprehensible before his eyes began to wander again. Bella placed him back down on the ground, which was sticky with his own drool and turned to Dave.

"His soul has been taken…" she said quietly. She took a moment to compose herself before placing Rodolphus' wand in his hand. He disappeared upon touching it. "We've got to get the other three out." said Bella. Dave nodded and walked over to the fallen guard, who had suffered a similar fate and took his wand back. He disappeared in a flash of fire.

_23: Fire in the Sky_

The heavy door creaked as Dave entered the large, dimly lit room. The Dark Lord had moved his headquarters to the lavishly decorated Malfoy Residence, now that Lucius had been freed from Azkaban, and had taken over the Malfoy's extravagant dining hall as the main meeting room. Centered in the room was an ornate and rather expensive looking oak table which was long enough to comfortably sit the twenty Death Eaters that were important enough to exist in the Dark Lord's presence.

At the very end of the table, seated in front of a large fireplace, capped by a marble mantle and gold-rimmed mirror, was the Dark Lord himself. The fire's glow seemed to generate a sort of bright, angelic aura around him. Seated directly to his right was Mr. Ollivander, the only person in the room who wasn't a Death Eater.

It was apparent that some of the Death Eaters resented Ollivander's presence, and even more so his enviable position in the seating arrangement.

"David, welcome," said the Dark Lord, his arms extended in a grandiose gesture of welcoming. "Take a seat." He motioned to an empty seat between Bellatrix and Rabastan. Dave guessed that it must have once been Rodolphus's. The poor Death Eater was now kept in a dark room, away from everyone else. His health was in decline, and he had become even thinner after receiving his spiritual lobotomy in Azkaban. He was now kept alive only by the sheer willpower of the house-elf that attended to him.

'Expendable,' thought Dave, as he took his seat.

"My friends," began the Dark Lord, "surely you've all noticed our drastic increase in numbers. You can all thank David for breaking six of our finest out of Azkaban." He turned to Dave, "It is a great honor to be invited into your lord's inner circle, you should be quite happy with yourself."

"I am always happy when serving my lord," said Dave, nodding. Bella placed a hand on Dave's shoulder and smiled down at him. The Dark Lord, however, saw through Dave's gushing praise, and saw the skepticism behind his eyes, though ignored it.

"David. You have impressed me with your abilities thus far. You're unique talents are a particularly valuable asset to our cause." He once again began addressing the group as a whole. "I have called this meeting because I wish to use David's talents once more." Dave nervously looked to Bella who smiled back at him in encouragement. Her enthusiasm strengthened Dave's resolve.

"What is my newest mission?" asked Dave.

"The Ministry is weak and confused," said the Dark Lord, continuing to address the group. "However, there is a movement within its ranks to rally around a certain scarred individual. They will find renewed strength in doing so. A strong Ministry will set us back months. We need to scare them again, and keep them confused. The goal is to assassinate Rufus Scrimegour."

"A coup perhaps?" asked one Death Eater, hopefully.

"Not a coup… I am not prepared to take control of the Ministry… yet. Rather, a reminder that I am the ultimate power, and that to resist me is a forfeiture of life. By scaring the people, and confusing the heads of state, my plans can go unhindered for awhile longer. There are specific goals that must be accomplished before I can take the Ministry."

"What do you have in mind?" asked Lucius Malfoy, who looked only slightly healthier since leaving Azkaban.

"Storm the Ministry, corner and kill Scrimegour, then leave," said the Dark Lord.

"Anyone else we should kill while there?" asked Lucius.

"Only those who attempt to resist," replied the Dark Lord.

"What is the boy's role in this?" asked Lucius.

"David, will be leading this operation," answered the Dark Lord, his eyes narrowing on Lucius. "You will assist him in any way you can."

"My lord, he is only a chi…"

"Lucius," said the Dark Lord, anger rising in his voice. "After the horrible failure you led the last time I sent Death Eaters to the Ministry, you are in no position to question David's ability. After all, you lost to children, did you not?"

"My lord, I apologize for my insolence. I will assist in any way I can."

"Yes," said the Dark Lord, returning to his characteristic calm state, "You will."

At three in the afternoon the next day, David and a team of twenty Death Eaters quietly entered the Ministry of Magic building.

They all wore an assortment of different colored robes with their hoods up to mask their identities. It would have been easier for Dave to sneak into Scrimegour's office and kill him alone, but the Dark Lord insisted that Dave attack with a grandiose affect.

"Pardon me, but before you enter the Ministry, you are all required to…" started the wizard at the front desk.

"_Imperio._"

"Thank you, and have a lovely day," said the man, returning his gaze forward. The procession entered into the Ministry where people were busy at work, running from office to office, all because of the mayhem caused by the very same people who now walked among them unnoticed.

The procession split up and went in separate directions, scattering themselves all over the Ministry. This tactic was another part of the plan Dave and Bella had developed the night before.

Dave at first had been confused. His fire powers wouldn't help him here. He was unsure why the Dark Lord had felt it appropriate to place him in this situation. A more veteran Death Eater with a sound knowledge of the Ministry building would have certainly been a better option. However, Ollivander explained later that the Dark Lord, while looking through Dave's memories had come across one of Dave's first excursions into his own powers; the flaming skeleton prank he had played on Ron and Hermione. It wasn't Dave's talents at teleporting or controlling fire the Dark Lord wanted to utilize, but rather Dave's knack for showmanship. The Dark Lord wanted a grand show that everyone would remember. Dave would deliver.

By using their Dark Marks, each Death Eater signaled to Dave when they were in position. Dave counted the pricks he felt on his left arm, until all twenty were situated. Dave touched his and all hell broke loose.

Suddenly, with a flourish of wands and robes, the rainbow of odd, hooded wizards suddenly turned into a veil of black. Lights flashed as the Death Eaters began creating chaos in their respective areas, creating a mass hysteria that drove everyone in the Ministry towards the apparation points.

It wasn't long before Aurors and Magical Law Enforcement began pouring in. Dave used the mayhem to mask his beeline towards the Minister's office.

Scrimegour had been going over paperwork when he began hearing screams outside his office. He had thrown open the door and was nearly hit by a jet of red light. He bolted from his office and ran to the end of the corridor. A witch in bright pink robes suddenly drew out her wand. Her robes turned black and her hood fell to expose the face of Bellatrix Lestrange. Scrimegour quickly jumped back and ran in the other direction.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" yelled Bella, a broad grin splitting her face. A beam of green light shot past the minister, missing him by inches. He turned the corner and came into the main hallway, where he came across more mass panic. Using the stairs, rather than the elevator, Scrimegour ran up the stairs towards the top floor. His quickness on the steps was quite extraordinary for a man of his age, but no one was paying enough attention to admire it as curses were flying all around.

He came out into the Entrance Hall, where the Fountain of Magical Brethren once stood. Everywhere he looked, he saw battles going on between Aurors and Death Eaters.

One Death Eater stood out from the bunch and approached the Minister. Scrimegour drew out his wand, preparing to use lethal force if necessary.

Suddenly the Death Eater erupted into flames, and a blazing dragon of fire erupted into the room. The air rippled with heat as the dragon flew about the room, knocking and incinerating poor witches and wizards who couldn't get out of the way in time. The dragon did one circle before dissipating, leaving only a circle of fire around the center of the room, effectively cutting off Scrimegour and the lone Death Eater from everyone else present.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" yelled Scrimegour. A beam of green light shot from his wand. The target disappeared in a flash of fire, reappearing just off to the side. The curse dissolved into the flames. All the fighting had stopped to watch the showdown.

"Minister," said Dave, removing his hood. "I have come here to kill you."

"I'm not ready to die just yet," growled Scrimegour, holding his wand at the ready.

"Death waits for no one," said Dave, drawing his wand.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" both said at the same time. The spells collided and shot off at odd directions, hitting nothing.

"_Incarcio!_" shouted Scrimegour. Ropes erupted from the ground and grabbed hold of Dave. Seizing the chance, the Minister ran at him, wand aloft.

Flames erupted around Dave, burning off the ropes. He dodged out of the way of the Minsiter's spell. "_Avada Kedavra!_" he yelled, but the Minister rolled out of the way, launching a killing curse of his own. The curse missed, and Dave stuck out his other arm, a jet of fire erupting from the palm. 

"Augiamenti!" shouted Scrimegour. Water shot from the tip of his wand and quenched the flames. Dave summoned two more jets of fire. They each took the form of a bull and charged down the Minister. He dodged the first, but the second caught him on the side. His robes caught fire and he was thrown backwards. He landed roughly and began rolling around, putting out the flames. He got back to his feet and shot a killing curse at where Dave had been moments before. Dave reappeared in a flash of fire above the Minister, landing on him with a dull thud. Scrimegour found himself pinned under Dave's feet, one on his chest, the other on his wand arm.

"You won't need that," said Dave. He flicked his wand and Srimegour's flew from his hand, landing several feet away.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" shouted Dave. There was a flash of green light and the sound of rushing death echoed off the walls. The Minster twitched feebly before the life left him. He stared back up at a satisfied Dave with cold, lifeless eyes.

"Our work here is done," called out Dave, touching his wand to his Dark Mark. Black cloaks disappeared with loud pops everywhere.

Dave and Bella also both disapparated; reappearing just outside the phone booth that served as the visitor's entrance to the Ministry.

"_Morsmordre!_" shouted Dave, pointing his wand upwards. A cloudy green skull appeared in the sky, a serpent tongue extending from his mouth.

"Excellent work," said Bella, putting her hand on his shoulder and smiling. "You have done a great service to the Dark Lord." Dave nodded in agreement and prepared to teleport back to Malfoy Manor, but stopped himself.

"What is it?" asked Bella. Dave turned and looked up to the sky at the dark mark, a hint of displeasure crossing his face.

A large ball of fire appeared in Dave's hand. He looked to his hand, and back up at the dark mark, debating his next move. Finally coming to a decision, he hurled the ball of flame straight up. Upon touching the Dark Mark, the sinister apparition ignited, creating a blazing, crimson version of what had become widely known as the most feared symbol in the wizarding world. Dave studied it for a moment longer before turning back to Bella, a smile gracing his face.

"That's better," he said, before disappearing in a flash of fire.

_24: The Revelation_

_Rufus Scrimegour: Assassinated!_

_Shortly before noon yesterday, the Ministry of Magic was attacked by followers of You-Know-Who. The intended target was Rufus Scrimegour, Minister of Magic, and former head of the Auror Office. Scrimegour was the only casualty of the attack._

_Identified among the assailants were Antonin Dolohov, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, and Lucius Malfoy, all confirmed Death Eaters. Bellatrix and Rabastan of course are famous for the incapacitation of aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom and are considered to be two of You-Know-Who's most dangerous supporters._

_The leader of the attack has been identified by the Inquisition as David Piermont (18), who was previously held captive by the Inquisition before escaping and going into hiding. _

"_He was being interrogated for suspicious behavior while attending Hogwarts," says Kingsley Shacklebolt, High Inquisitor, member of the Order of the Phoenix, and former head of the Auror Office. _

"_We were considering letting him go, but then he broke out of his cell and that pretty much sealed it for us," comments Bill Weasley, another Inquisitor who served on the five-person panel who interrogated Piermont._

_The Ministry has not yet issued a formal statement, but High Inquisitor Shacklebolt assures that the Ministry has not been overthrown._

"_You-Know-Who has sent us all a clear message. We will shout back even louder," said Shacklebolt yesterday at a meeting of Inquisitors, Aurors, and Law Enforcement personnel._

Dave turned the page, unwilling to subject himself to the piercing gaze of Kingsley's picture on the front of the prophet any longer. On the next page he came across a much more favorable sight. A photograph of his Dark Mark, wreathed in flames, was dancing merrily on page two, followed by an article.

_The New Face of Evil_

_Rita Skeeter_

_As you all must know, yesterday, twenty Death Eaters stormed the Ministry with the intent of causing mayhem and killing Rufus Scrimegour. However, rather than sending out the same dopey lieutenants as usual, You-Know-Who put a newcomer to the Dark Arts in the lead, David Piermont, a handsome bad-boy who had been expelled from Hogwarts after fleeing the Inquisition. _

_Now, You-Know-Who has a large talent pool of stooges to draw from, but this time he chose a newcomer, who not only bested Scrimegour, a seasoned Auror, in a one on one duel, but has brought an element of showmanship and spectacle, previously unseen among the ranks of Death Eaters at You-Know-Who's disposal. Even the Dark Mark has changed to a lovely two-tone of crimson and gold. _

_Could the reason for this sudden change be You-Know-Who trying to update his image? His dark new celebrity is certainly causing a stir in the wizarding world, changing the perception of both You-Know-Who, and his Death Eaters. _

"_It was a splendid display of magic, but it would not do to neglect his practical skill. Defeating Scrimegour is no small feat! And someone so young, leading a massive attack like the one the Ministry faced yesterday is simply shocking! Piermont should not be taken lightly. He is dangerous and his addition to the Death Eaters may well make them unstoppable!" said a Ministry insider who prefers to remain unnamed._

_While the implications of the Dark Lord's new protégé are yet to be known, David has captivated our senses and is making evil sexy again. Though I dread the body count, part of me looks forward to David's next move._

Dave placed the prophet back on the able, a satisfied grin crossing his face. He hadn't made the front page, but he was now known as one of the most powerful dark wizards in Britain. It wouldn't be long before he would be held in the same esteem as Bellatrix and the other, more famous, Death Eaters, whose names were uttered with almost as much reluctance as the Dark Lord's.

Contemplating his latest achievement, Dave took a swig from the bottle of firewhiskey sitting on the table next to the prophet. It burned as it ran down his throat, yet was not unpleasant. Being in the Three Broomsticks was not unpleasant either, and Dave was thankful that the Prophet was either unable, or had simply forgotten to include a picture of him. No one outside the Inquisition and Hogwarts knew his face, and it made it rather easy to walk down the streets of Hogsmeade unnoticed.

Dave was in Hogsmeade today because it was one of the precious few trips into town Pansy had left, and he was dying to see her again.

Dave paid for his drinks and left the tavern. Spring was in full swing, and a cool breeze refreshed him as he stepped into the street. The Three Broomsticks was a hotspot for Hogwarts students, the first group of whom, would be arriving shortly, and Dave wanted to get some distance from the place before students who knew him got close enough to recognize him.

He walked down the street and turned down a deserted alleyway between Honeyduke's Chocolate and an abandoned building recently bought by the Weasley twins. The smell of the old building mixed with the smell of chocolate created a strange odor that caused Dave's nostrils to tingle unpleasantly. Breathing through his mouth, he focused on the Shrieking Shack and disappeared, leaving scorch marks on the sides of both buildings.

The week prior to Dave's current visit had experienced quite a bit of rainfall, and as he appeared in the shack, his nose was accosted by another array of unpleasant smells. The rain had moistened the entire building, fostering the growth of mold and mildew.

Now, the shack was already gross with the stuff, but this new growth reinvigorated the stench that had faded with time, and his eyes watered as he accidentally inhaled it.

Breathing through his mouth again, to avoid gagging, Dave created a fireball in the air to provide light and went to work at once. He went from room to room, using a combination of brute force and magic to set everything straight. Without magic, it would have taken years to clean the house properly, and even with magic it would have taken awhile, but Dave was only attempting to make the building suitable for temporary use, and the cleaning was far from perfect. When he finally reached the last room, the smell had weakened to the point where he was once again breathing freely.

The last room was the same one he had first been in when he expressed to Pansy his reason for joining Slytherin. He revisited the memory in his head as he fixed the sofa they had broken. The old couch creaked and groaned as the broken legs righted themselves and shifted underneath the cushions, which rearranged themselves back into place. Once the sofa was fixed, Dave gave it a satisfied pat, and was assaulted by a cloud of dust that had been concealed within the cushions for years.

There was a loud crack as Pansy apparated in behind him. He spun around right into Pansy's tight embrace.

"Dave," she started excitedly, "everyone's talking about you at school. It's incredible! You should hear it! They talk like you're a new Dark Lord! They fear you as if you were an equal to Lestrange, or Dolohov!"

"That's good to hear," said Dave calmly, holding Pansy tight, though it proved difficult, given her level of excitement. He inhaled deeply and enjoyed the flowery scent of her hair, and the warm feeling of holding her close.

"Fear will eventually turn into respect," said Dave, smiling. He rocked slowly side to side as he continued to hold Pansy in his arms. "It's like a religion… People fear power when they don't understand it, but love it when it's familiar. When I take over, and make myself known, people will begin to love me… They'll see that I am pushing magic to the limits, and respect it, and feel comfortable with me."

"No one would oppose you," said Pansy happily. "They'll want to help."

"Tyrants always fall," agreed Dave. "I think that's why the Dark Lord has such problems, and why he'll never win. It's love. Few if any love him. Most of these Death Eaters serve him out of fear. It makes them nervous and afraid of failure, which renders them incompetent. If his followers loved him, they'd be better. Love always seems to beat fear in the end." Pansy gazed up at him with her blue eyes and Dave drank them in. For the first time in weeks, he thought about his Muggle family, and Pansy's mudblood mother, and Pansy herself, and wondered just what he was doing with himself. He respected the Dark Lord's mission to expand magic to its fullest potential, but his methods were all wrong. They were violent, selfish, and… evil. Love, for some reason, kept kicking at his brain. It was so absurdly simple, and Dave couldn't believe he had never thought of it before.

Love was the ultimate power. Evil granted more power initially, but it was never lasting. Love in various forms: courage, compassion, and loyalty always toppled an evil power in the end. Therein lay the secret to surpassing the Dark Lord. Dave would need to be everything he was, and also have love. Both feel it himself, and have others feel it towards him. The Dark Lord's servants obeyed out of fear. If he could make them love him, they would tell him the Dark Lord's secrets. Once Dave was strong enough to protect them, they'd even abandon the Dark Lord, making him even weaker. Power and love together would yield the absolute dominance and strength Dave was searching for, and put him on the path to immortality. The revelation was shocking, yet welcomed.

_25: The Final Mission_

Dave re-entered Malfoy Manner to a round of applause by the few Death Eaters present. Only Lucius Malfoy looked unhappy to see him again.

Dave ignored most of them, stopping to give Bella a pleasant smile as he made his way towards the meeting room. His mark was burning, calling him to his lord, and he wouldn't be distracted.

He was no longer afraid of the Dark Lord. He now knew that the master of evil's power was severely limited by the inability to love, and even more so by the lack of respect for it. The fact that he still referred to him as the Dark Lord was nothing more than a formality brought upon by respect of office.

Mr. Ollivander was sitting to the Dark Lord's right. The two figures looked darker, silhouetted by the glow of the flames roaring behind them. Dave blinked several times to adjust to the difference in the light, causing the fire to flicker in tandem with his eyelids.

"David," said the Dark Lord, invitingly, and indicating to the chair directly to his left. "Take a seat." Dave didn't miss the clear implication that he was being promoted once again and thanked the Dark Lord as he sat down.

"I noticed you took it upon yourself to alter my mark," commented the Dark Lord casually. His red eyes seemed to glow in the dim lights. Dave felt something brush past his leg and nearly jumped when Nagini rose above the edge of the table and coiled herself up and around the shoulders of the Dark Lord.

"I wanted to differentiate myself from your other followers," responded Dave calmly.

"You're certainly different," agreed the Dark Lord. "Strange powers, exceptional talent, muddy blood, and after your last two missions, your notoriety is well-deserved. Don't worry; the papers will never print your family impurity. My people will assure it."

"Thank you," said Dave, expecting to need to repay the favor somehow.

"Think nothing of it," said the Dark Lord, waving his hand. "Your contributions to my cause far surpass everyone's expectations. I protect those who help me."

"I live only to serve," said Dave bowing his head. "Your protection is welcomed, but undeserved."

"Don't be modest, and don't bother lying to me any more," responded the Dark Lord, waving his hand dismissively. "You serve yourself by serving me. You look at me and feel no fear. You study me, as if looking for a weakness, and the minute you find one, you'll exploit it and try to surpass me and take my position as the ultimate power in the world. You remain a loyal servant in hopes of learning the secrets to my immortality, both to achieve it yourself, and to unravel mine."

"I remain transparent as ever," said Dave, bowing his head once more, but a smile cracking upon his face.

"Because of this," started the Dark Lord. "You are one of my most intelligent, powerful, and competent Death Eaters." He looked over to Ollivander, and began to address both of them, "The two of you are the only two I can rely on. That is why I have specifically asked the two of you into this private meeting."

"Another mission?" asked Dave.

"What is said in this meeting will never be repeated," started the Dark Lord. He said is with such confidence in his voice that Dave doubted he'd ever be compelled to break the agreement.

"Harry Potter is more of a threat than anyone suspects," continued the Dark Lord. "With Dumbledore's help, he has learned some of the secrets to my power." Ollivander shifted in his seat. The Dark Lord turned to him, "You know what your mission is. I trust I don't need to explain any further?" Ollivander nodded and left the room. The Dark Lord then turned back to Dave. "David, Harry Potter must be stopped. You know him better than any other Death Eater. You have the ability to overcome any defense, and evoke any passion. If I have learned anything from dealing with Potter it is that passion is his greatest weakness. Dumbledore always believed that love was Potter's greatest power, but it will be his undoing. Love conquers evil, but with great beings such as ourselves, often love causes us to win, only to lose what we were fighting for in the process. We are better off without it. I need you to bring Harry Potter to me, anyway you can. He only needs to be alive, for I alone should kill him, just as I know he will never let anyone other than himself attempt to kill me."

"I will, of course, do my best," said Dave.

"I know you will," replied the Dark Lord. "I also know that you will try to get Harry to tell you the secrets of my power. You will use that information against me, just as Harry is now. I will tell you this. Harry is destiny bound to destroy me, or die by my hand. There can be no other conclusion. You must bring Harry to me for your own benefit as well."

"Once again, I'm transparent," acknowledged Dave, standing up from the table. "My ambitions far exceed anything I can achieve while subservient to you, or anyone else for that matter."

"Which is why you're such a powerful ally. It will be a shame when I'm finally forced to kill you."

"Then may we both enjoy our final moments together," said Dave, smiling back at the Dark Lord. He looked the Dark Lord in the eyes once more before disappearing in a flash of fire.

"The Dark Lord intends to kill you, I assume?" asked Ollivander the next day. He was helping Dave plan his newest mission.

"Once he kills Harry Potter, I'll be the next biggest threat," said Dave, crumpling up a piece of parchment and burning it to ash. He withdrew a new piece and began planning from scratch once more. "I just wish I knew how to defeat him."

"I know how," said Ollivander quietly. Dave dropped his quill and looked up in surprise.

"Was that the mission he sent you on yesterday?" asked Dave. Ollivander nodded. "Mr. Ollivander, I don't have the kind of time I thought I did," he pleaded. "If you know how to defeat the Dark Lord, please just clue me in. It's not just about me anymore."

Mr. Ollivander seemed to consider for a moment. Finally, after a few minutes he spoke up, "You have a soul that is, more or less, uncorrupted. I take it you regret some of the murders you've committed?"

"They were necessary," replied Dave, "but I regret them."

"More or less uncorrupted," agreed Mr. Ollivander, pausing another moment to think. "The Dark Lord, is immortal. He cannot be killed."

"There must be a way…"

"There is, and Harry Potter knows it," answered Ollivander, glancing around nervously. "The Dark Lord has achieved immortality by splitting his soul…"

"Excuse me!" exclaimed Dave, completely revolted. Quickly looking towards the door and lowering his voice, "He did what?"

"The Dark Lord split his soul into seven pieces. One piece is in his body, and the other six are concealed in certain objects. These serve to anchor him to this world, so even if his body dies, he himself does not."

"And how is Harry stopping him?"

"The objects that contain pieces of soul are called horcruxes," explained Ollivander, lowering his voice even more. "They can be destroyed, and that is what Harry is currently doing. My mission yesterday was to check the location of two of these pieces."

"And?"

"Harry has already destroyed them," confirmed Ollivander. "One was a ring, and one was a locket. They are the only two I know about. Since creating those, the Dark Lord has confided in no one about them."

"How did you find out about these two?"

"The Dark Lord made them under my guidance," answered Ollivander, hanging his head in shame. "A Hogwarts teacher had told him about them, but it was a banned subject at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord came to me, a fellow scholar of the Dark Arts for advice. I taught him how to make them. The incantations, the theory… it was all me."

"Mr. Ollivander, if a fight between myself and the Dark Lord were to break out. Would you fight for me or for him?"

"I have helped turn one of the most brilliant wizards of our time into a monster. I do not regret working for the Dark Lord. Together the two of us have expanded magic farther than ever before, our notes will fill volumes of books, and they're all just waiting for the right moment to be released. However, you show the same promise, and I would like to rectify my mistakes. I want to help you."

"Mr. Ollivander, under the guise of helping me with my mission, find Harry Potter and find out everything you can about his progress."

"I'll see what I can do," promised Mr. Ollivander, who disappeared with a loud pop.

_26: Bella's Help_

The air was thick with anxiousness. With help from both Bellatrix and Ollivander, Dave had crafted his plan to capture Harry. However, this most recent meeting of Death Eaters was about something completely different.

Dave walked in and took his seat at the Dark Lord's immediate left, receiving a mix of stares, some in admiration, and others in resentment, most of the latter coming from members of the innermost circle.

The Dark Lord sat quietly in his seat. He had been lost in his own thoughts for some days now; detached from his followers. Even his snake, Nagini, seemed more aloof, and perhaps even nervous. In the last two days she had not once left her master's side.

"For a nice change," started the Dark Lord, speaking slowly and carefully, "We are experiencing more success then failure. The Inquisition has been forced to temporarily dissolve the Ministry and declare martial law. If we let them get too settled in to this new arrangement, there will be more problems for us. However, we are now facing an opportune moment to seize control." All eyes focused intensely on the Dark Lord now, each person hanging on every word. Though the Dark Lord had not yet revealed his next move, everyone knew what was coming, as they had been anticipating and expecting it for weeks. The excitement was so intense it was practically tangible, pushing in from all directions, making you unable, and unwilling to move, blink, or speak.

"It is time we came out into the open," said the Dark Lord, after a long, suspenseful pause. There was a sharp intake of breathe from one of the Death Eaters, who was preparing to speak, but he was interrupted by the Dark Lord.

"The Inquisition is too small and far too extended by their attempt to take over the Ministry's duties. If there was ever a moment to strike, it would be now, while there is no central leadership to rally around." Death Eaters around the room nodded in agreement.

"David," said the Dark Lord, turning to face him directly. "I am amending your mission. You will lead the Death Eaters into Hogsmeade. Once it is in our control, you shall go about the task I have previously assigned to you."

"Taking Hogsmeade first will make my other task much more simple," replied Dave, nodding in approval.

"Bellatrix," started the Dark Lord again. "You will take Diagon Alley." Bella nodded, her face betraying a youthful enthusiasm that seemed out of place when accounting for her age.

"You will both take a team of Death Eaters with you to these locations. I'll let you split them up yourselves." The Dark Lord then dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.

"Any luck?" asked Dave, as Ollivander quietly entered the room. There were heavy bags under his eyes from the days work, both for the Dark Lord, and for Dave. He sat down roughly in a chair and leaned his head on his hands.

"Tracking down young Harry is near impossible," said Ollivander. "He and his friends are quite talented. I'm afraid I haven't been able to get into contact with him."

Dave sighed and turned away to look out the window, admiring the night sky, which was clear, a stark contrast to the skies over London. He took a moment to savor the view before turning back to Ollivander.

"Have you found out anything at all?" he asked, yearning for even the slightest bit of information.

"I have," said Ollivander, his face brightening a bit. "I spoke to Bellatrix a few moments ago. She tells me that the Dark Lord has placed something in the Lestrange Vault at Gringotts. Apparently it's incredibly important. I think it might be another horcrux."

"Is Bella still here?" asked Dave, standing up.

"She's down the hall," answered Ollivander, also getting up, "should I go get her?"

"No need," dismissed Dave. He gave his wand a graceful swish and a silver phoenix shot from his wand and flew down the hall. Bella came into the room shortly after.

"Need help?" asked Bella, smiling at Dave and betraying a hint of emotion.

"Bella," started Dave, "I can't figure out a plan to capture Harry. Ollivander and I agree that we need to show him something that will draw him out, but we don't know what."

"He always had a soft-spot for his godfather. It lured him out into the Department of Mysteries two years ago. Maybe do the same trick again?" she suggested.

"No, I know him well enough to know that he won't fall for it twice. I was thinking that there might be some kind of object that could entice him to come out into the open."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at?"

"The Dark Lord mentioned earlier that he had an item placed in your vault," said Dave. "He thinks that Harry is looking for it."

"The Dark Lord told you about the cup?" asked Bella, sounding puzzled. "He said…"

"The Dark Lord trusts the three of us more so than anyone else," interrupted Ollivander.

"Yes," agreed Dave. "But there's still a problem."

"What's wrong?"

"The Dark Lord also told me that he was going to kill me if I didn't pull this off," said Dave, putting on a fake expression of despair.

"I don't think…"

"He told me privately," agreed Ollivander. "The Dark Lord fears that Dave will try to help Harry in order to defeat him."

"But you'd…"

"Exactly," confirmed Dave. "I would never turn my back on the Dark Lord. However, if I can deliver Harry to him exactly as he wishes, then my loyalty wouldn't be in question."

"I'll help you in any way I can," said Bella. "Just ask."

"I need that cup." Bella seemed shocked, and visibly reacted to the request.

"I… I can't do that," she stammered. "He'd kill… He'd be furious. He told me to make sure that cup never left the vault again."

"I need the cup to just lure out Harry," pleaded Dave. "If you can get me that cup, we can destroy Harry, and save my life."

"There's got to be another way…"

"There isn't," confirmed Ollivander, catching on. "We've spent days going through every possible plan. Harry's too smart to fall for tricks. We've already abused his gullibility to the limit. He needs to actually see the cup before him. We have an idea, but we need to look at that cup first."

"Tell me the plan and I'll ask the Dark Lord for approval."

"The Dark Lord can't know about this," begged Dave. "He wouldn't approve. He wants to see me fail. I offended him when I changed his Dark Mark at the Ministry."

"What's the idea?" asked Bella, who was beginning to soften.

"Ollivander can make an exact copy, and curse it," said Dave, his expression unreadable, but certainly not indicating any of the falsehoods he was delivering. "The curse will cripple Harry and transport him before the Dark Lord at the same time."

"So you won't actually need to use the cup?"

"Five minutes and you can put it back in the vault," promised Dave. "Please, I need you to do this for me. It will save my life."

Bella considered for a few long moments.

"Okay," she said. "But only for a few minutes. If the Dark Lord finds out he'll kill me, but if I don't help he'll kill you."

"Bella, I don't know what to say… thank you so much for doing this for me," said Dave, a broad smile crossing his face. He threw his arms around Bella and hugged her tight. A smile curled on her lips, before she quashed it.

Bella returned with the cup the next day. She stood by watching as both Dave and Ollivander scrutinized it closely.

"_Geminus,_" said Ollivander, flicking his wand in a complex array of movements. Suddenly two cups appeared. Dave picked the two up, and began to study them both, making sure to switch them with a mix of misdirection and sleight of hand. He handed the fake back to Bella.

"Thanks again," said Dave smiling. Bella grinned back at him and disappeared to replace the cup.

"Now," started Ollivander. "Only certain things can destroy a horcrux. I believe the only tool we have at our disposal is fiendfyre."

"Which is?"

"A fire, so you'll be able to control it," nodded Ollivander, "but it is more powerful and magical by nature."

"Tell me more." Ollivander proceeded to explain the theory.

"Now, I will create the fire, but unfortunately, I've never been able to control it. That's where you'll come in. Keep the fire contained until it has fully destroyed the cup." Dave nodded and got ready.

With a flick of his wand, Ollivander produced an astonishingly red flame, which began to grow rapidly. Dave began to assert control over it, but found that the fire was moving of its own accord.

He tried once more, this time touching the fire. It burned his hand terribly, but he fought the mind of the fire with his own.

Ollivander jumped up and covered Dave's mouth to keep him from screaming in pain as the fiendfyre crawled up his arm. Wincing, and losing focus, Dave made attempt after attempt to assert control.

As Dave's mind began to cloud over from the pain, he saw the last of the cup evaporate into mist out of the corner of his eye. With a renewed surge of energy, he strained to control the fire. His muscles twitching as he did so.

The fire roared mockingly at Dave and continued to spread. Ollivander was now trying to dispel the flames himself, but was having no luck. Dave stood up and with all his might focused the last of his energy on the fire.

There was a loud pop, and several cracks as Dave finally asserted control. The flames died down, and soon were weak enough for Ollivander to dispel. Dave collapsed onto the floor, tired and dizzy.

_27: Phoenix Rising_

Dave had planned the attack to fall right smack in the middle of Hogwart's last trip out to Hogsmeade. He wanted Pansy to be present for his rise to glory, and it made his plan to lure Harry out into the open all the easier.

The day was sunny and warm. It was a wonderful day for a Hogsmeade trip, and all the students who were old enough to go were walking about the town.

Dave entered on foot, rather than by apparating. This was his moment to shine and he wanted the grand effect. As he entered the village, he heard a strange, and yet, beautiful song enter his head through his ears, and instinctively looked up to the sky. He was delighted to see that his little friend, the phoenix, had taken to the skies and came out to support Dave in his attempt to rise to power.

Few recognized him until he moved closer to the center of town, where Honeyduke's, Zonko's, and the Three Broomsticks formed a triangle of teenager delight that was infested with the majority of Hogwarts' students.

He walked quickly and with purpose. His black cloak billowed out behind him as he moved through the crowd, sixth years shrieking and dodging out of his way as he passed. Word of his venture into Hogsmeade was spreading, and the crowd seemed to thin around him as he walked.

"Dave!" called Blaise excitedly. He was exiting the Three Broomsticks with Nott. They immediately made a beeline for him, who walked right past them, completely ignoring their presence. There would be a time for fun later, but Dave was focused entirely on his mission, and would not let himself be distracted.

There was a flash of red several people ahead, and Dave targeted it and moved even more quickly than before.

"Ginn…" started Dave, a moment of hesitation cutting off his words. The red-headed girl turned around sharply at Dave, hand reaching for her wand. Dave grabbed her, disappearing in a flash of fire.

They reappeared in the Shrieking Shack where Pansy and Mr. Ollivander were waiting.

"Dave! I'm so excited!" exclaimed Pansy, embracing him. Dave kissed her and then turned to Ollivander, "It's time to put our plan into action. Bella will signal you when it's time for your part, but for now, keep an eye on this girl, make sure she doesn't escape." Ollivander nodded and took Ginny's wand.

"I always liked this wand," he said, rubbing the wand lightly with his finger. "One of my best if I do say so myself." Dave smiled and took Pansy's hand.

Together, they left the Shrieking Shack. A flash of green light erupted behind them, creating a luminescent, serpent tongued skull that floated eerily in the sky. This was the first signal.

Like a machine gun, Death Eaters began apparating into the heart of Hogsmeade with a series of loud pops. Yelling and screaming echoed off the buildings as flashes of green light began shooting in all directions. Dave gazed at the spectacle for a moment before turning away. His bout with the fiendfyre had left him severely weakened. However, he couldn't let the Dark Lord see his vulnerability so he delegated his job to Lucius, who was more than happy to have the opportunity to prove his abilities and make up for his horrendous mistake two years earlier.

With a flash of fire, Dave and Pansy teleported to the front doors of Hogwarts. After two trips in a row, Dave was tired and dizzy. He leaned heavily on Pansy's shoulder, who supported him as he slowly made his way up the stairs and into the Entrance Hall.

"Dave, we should wait for Mr. Malfoy," warned Pansy quietly as they stepped inside the doors.

"I can't. He'll interfere with my plan," said Dave, still supported by Pansy.

"If a fight breaks out you'll be defenseless. We can't hold off the entire staff by ourselves."

"There won't be a fight," promised Dave. "I have a plan."

"Don't go overboard," cautioned Pansy. Dave stopped leaning on her and began supporting his own weight again, his energy returning. "If you show weakness the plan will collapse."

"We'll see," said Dave, opening the doors to the Great Hall.

The two of them burst into the Great Hall, where the students who weren't in Hogsmeade were eating lunch. The doors slammed behind them, creating a loud bang that echoed throughout the room, drawing the attention of all the students and staff.

McGonagall stood up from her center seat at the dais, her wand pointed directly at Dave. "You dare come back here after what you've done?" said McGonagall, trying to mask her apparent anger. Her wand quivered as the adrenaline began to pump. The entire room became tense, a fight seeming to loom on the horizon.

"Hogwarts is now the property of the Dark Lord," said Dave. He didn't yell, but spoke with complete confidence. His voice echoed off the walls of the silent hall and the air became still, each and every nerve ready to explode into a torrent of action.

Suddenly, in a flurry of motion, the silence was disturbed as several students stood up, their wands all pointing directly at Dave. Among the first to arise were Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.

"We'll fight Voldemort and all of his pathetic Death Eaters," called out Neville. Heads around the room nodded in agreement. Neville's wand was twitching in the air, begging to unleash its power.

Dave's eyes rolled back in his head as he summoned up as much energy as he could spare. He felt his knees grow weak, and his legs began to shake as the damage from the fiendfyre began to take its toll. Dave knelt down and placed his palms on the ground. He made a show of it so it seemed deliberate, but it was to mask his growing instability. Energy coursed through him and the temperature of the room began to rise.

Like corpses rising from their graves, skeletal hands began grasping at the floor, pulling their flaming bodies up and out of the ground from the abyss. Flaming skeletons, similar to the one Dave had used to prank Ron months earlier, rose from the ground and stood around the perimeter of the Great Hall; twenty in all. Dave felt himself slowly begin to slip out of consciousness, but after lingering on the floor awhile longer, he mustered up enough energy to stand. He looked from Neville to Luna, his gaze finally resting on McGonagall, whose defiant gesture was duplicated by the rest of the staff.

However, the students were not as brave as the professors, and began to lower their wands, save for a select few who stood their ground. The flaming warriors stood still, standing like sentinels around the room, ready to strike at any moment.

"An army of Death Eaters are waiting in Hogsmeade. They will attack if I am defeated, or if I give them the signal. I am here on my own to offer you a chance to survive. Everyone who is underage can escape through the secret passage underneath the Whomping Willow. The Death Eaters won't see you escape. Unfortunately, I cannot permit anyone seventeen or older to leave. I will tell the Dark Lord that I was spotted in Hogsmeade and you were given advanced warning. However, if Hogwarts is empty, he will be suspicious." He stared McGonagall straight in the eye, silently pleading with her to take him up on his offer. She seemed to understand and lowered her wand.

"Lower your wands," she ordered. "Sixth year prefects, lead the way." The students filed out of the Great Hall, Luna in the lead, carrying Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, in her arms.

"Thank you," said Dave, looking up to McGonagall who looked less than pleased. Dave moved himself closer to a seat, and summoned up the last of his energy into a fireball and launched it into the air. It phased through the enchanted ceiling and into the sky, which illuminated bright crimson. A flaming, serpent tongue skull, formed in the air, three words began to form in flames underneath. They read: _I've Got Ginny_.

_28: Reborn From the Ashes_

Dave felt a prick on his arm and knew that Bella had finished her job and was coming. At the same time, Ollivander entered the Great Hall, holding Ginny at wandpoint.

Before long, Death Eaters began to appear. The lesser ones still maintained stations at Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, but the Dark Lord wanted his greatest supporters present for the final battle. As they appeared they began to raise their wands, keeping the students under control. Dave dispelled the flaming sentinels, as he saw they were no longer needed. He felt a rush of energy return to him, and stood up and walked to the dais, sitting down in McGonagall's chair. He looked down on the Great Hall, surveying his day's accomplishments.

"Mr. Ollivander, please bring Ginny up here. The Dark Lord will arriving shortly and I want the stage to be set." Ollivander nodded and after prodding Ginny with her own wand, got her to walk up to the dais with him. Dave motioned to the chair on his left, and Ginny reluctantly sat down. Ollivander handed Ginny's wand over to Dave, who stowed it away in his robes.

"Now, go outside and meet Harry when he arrives," instructed Dave. He looked Ollivander in the eye and the two nodded in mutual understanding. Ollivander had never been able to locate Harry, but now he would come right to him.

Minutes went by like hours as all the Death Eaters waited, tense with anticipation of the battle that was surely looming on the horizon. The temperature suddenly dropped soon after Ollivander left. The Dark Lord was inside the Great Hall.

Dave felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck as the Dark Lord approached. He was back at Hogwarts for the first time in many years, and being at home and in his element made the Dark Lord truly terrifying to behold. Dave slipped Ginny back her wand underneath the table, out of the Dark Lord's view. She looked at him quizzically for a moment before turning back to watch the Dark Lord.

"Not here yet," mused the Dark Lord, scanning the room for Harry. "Disappointing, but no matter; he'll be here soon. David, you have done magnificently. I had nothing but the utmost confidence in your abilities. I'm proud of you and what you've accomplished." Dave smiled back, appearing to be grateful for the compliment, but when his eyes met the Dark Lord's, there was a silent communication between the two betraying the true feelings of both of them. They would settle their own affairs tonight as well.

In the mean time, Dave stood up and bowed, offering his seat to the Dark Lord, who took it without expressing gratitude or acknowledgment. Dave took the seat to his immediate right. Shortly after, Ollivander entered the room along with Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the Order of the Phoenix, which wasn't all too dissimilar to the Inquisition in membership. Ollivander looked up to Dave, and nodded his head once.

Dave nodded back in understanding, but his heart sank. One nod meant one more horcrux left, and he had no idea where the last one could possibly be. It was a blow to his plan. Dave had hoped there would be none left at this point. If the Dark Lord was still immortal, he would find defeating him to be impossible.

Just as his spirits were down, a song began to form in his mind. He looked out the window and saw his friend, the phoenix, flying by. The song renewed his confidence and he couldn't help but crack a small smile.

With Nagini securely coiled around his neck and shoulders, the Dark Lord rose from his seat and stepped down to stand before Harry.

"Once again, the power of love has led you to harm, rather than to success. Look around you, Harry Potter. Look where you're love has gotten your friends. Your parents are dead, your godfather is dead, Dumbledore is dead, and now your precious Ginny, for the second time finds her life in terrible peril, all because of you and your absurd love."

"That might be so," said Harry, standing defiantly. "But now that I'm here, facing you directly, there is no need to keep her. Perhaps love has in fact, brought me to my death. But there are worse things than dying, and a life without love, a life like yours, is one of them."

"You're quite wrong," said the Dark Lord, smiling pleasantly down at Harry. "I'm having quite a bit of fun." He flicked his wand and Ginny flew from her chair and hovered between Harry and the Dark Lord.

"I wonder how much she can take…" mused the Dark Lord. "_Crucio!_" Ginny began to flail around violently, screaming in pain. She arched her back farther than should have been possible, whilst convulsing terribly. Her voice went hoarse as she yelled, for the pain was unrelenting and terrible. Dave, unable to watch, averted his gaze in disgust. His eyes rested on Nagini, who was still coiled around her master. She looked up to Dave, and for a brief moment, Dave could have sworn he saw a flash of red in her eyes.

Realization dawned on Dave, dowsing his mind like a tidal wave. All the time he spent at Malfoy Manor, and he had never realized that the final piece to the Dark Lord's soul was the infernal beast who would brush past his legs as he sat at the meeting table. The phoenix's song had gotten softer in his head, as he had been distracted by the scene in front, but the volume had increased significantly. Dave stood up, drawing his wand.

"_Stupefy!_" yelled Lucius Malfoy, who out of either intelligence, or predisposition to hate Dave, most likely the latter, had correctly guessed Dave's intentions. The spell missed, but all hell suddenly broke loose.

Curses and spells began to fly all over, creating a vicious show of flashing lights that danced around the walls of the Great Hall. Dave found himself on the receiving end of attacks by both the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters alike, but his superior skills and abilities allowed him to move around the hall, effortlessly dodging curses and spells. The song played even louder in his mind, lending him strength. He soon found that the effects of the fiendfyre were lifting, and his old power began surging through him.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" yelled Lucius, a jet of green light missed Dave by inches, removing a chunk from the wall behind him. Dave waved his arm in a rising motion and Lucius went up in a pillar of flames, but was quickly extinguished by Rabastan.

Afraid for the life of his snake, Voldemort stayed on the edges of the fight, focusing more on defense than on offense. A fireball whizzed past Bella's head, hitting Dolohov, the intended target, square in the chest. She rounded on Dave, an expression of both anger, and shock crossing her face.

"David, I don't understand!" she cried. She dodged a stray curse and ran over to Dave, putting her hands on his shoulders. "What are you doing?" she asked. "How could you betray us? You were like a son to me!" There was a flash of green light as Lucius once again found Dave, who he seemed hell-bent on killing. Bella threw Dave out of the way. Dave heard the sound of rushing death, and when the light faded, Bellatrix was on the ground, gazing lifelessly up at the enchanted ceiling.

"NO!" yelled Voldemort in anger. A jet of green light shot from his wand, nailing Lucius in the face. The force of the spell sent him flying backwards, and through one of the large windows. The sound of shattering glass was obscured by the raging battle within the walls. However, the battle quickly deteriorated into even more chaos as Death Eater found themselves being cursed by other Death Eaters.

Dave found himself fighting Rabastan and Mulciber. With his powers at full potential, dodging their spells was easy enough. But with chaos consuming the fight, Dave found it difficult to fight them while also dodging stray curses from battles nearby. One curse just missed Dave, leaving a neat hole in his sleeve. Dave turned and saw that Avery had shot at him and threw a fireball. He fell back in pain and began to roll on the ground. Dave focused on him, trying to keep the fire alive long enough to kill him when from somewhere to his right he heard the infamous words, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

In the split second he had before impact, a slideshow of images passed through his head. He saw his family and Pansy. He had failed them all. The sound of rushing death filled his ears. Blinding green light obstructed his view and Dave braced himself for the end, when a flash of crimson appeared in the corner of his eye. Dave blinked and saw the phoenix fall from the air and land at Dave's feet. Before he could register what had happened, the bird burst into flames, quickly disintegrating into a pile of ash.

Unwilling to linger any longer, Dave teleported across the room and found himself fighting again, but this time side by side with Ollivander.

"We must protect Harry!" he called over the noise. "Only he can defeat the Dark Lord!" Dave looked and saw Harry was fighting side by side with Ron and Hermione, holding off Rookwood, Rabastan, and Jugson. He ran to help them when he heard the accursed incantation once again. The Dark Lord had entered the fight, and a beam of green light shot past Dave, hitting Pansy. The breath left her as she crumpled to the ground, her eyes staring and lifeless.

The next moments passed before Dave in slow motion.

Harry broke away from the group to duel Voldemort one on one, but Dave wouldn't let that happen. He jumped in front of Harry, launching a massive jet of flame straight at Voldemort. A killing curse intended for Harry hit him square in the chest. As he fell, he saw Nagini erupt in flames and fall from her master's shoulders, hitting the ground the same time as Dave did. Then all went black.

Voldemort howled in rage and launched a new killing curse at Harry. Harry called out "_Expelliarmus!_", but the curse was fueled by intense anger and burst through it with ease, connecting with Harry. Ginny screamed as both Harry and Voldemort crumpled to the ground.

Dave woke up in a white void. He was naked, but found his Death Eater robes neatly folded next to him. He put them on and looked around. As he moved forward, the void began to take the shape of a beautiful, white marble train station, illuminated by a glass, domed ceiling that glittered magnificently in the sunlight.

Something warm brushed past his feet and he looked down to see his friend the phoenix. He hopped along the floor towards the platform, where a white train was waiting. The bird walked up to the doors and tapped it three times with its beak. The doors slid open and seemed to invite Dave in.

He walked aboard and looked to his little friend who cocked his head and stared back.

"Aren't you coming too?" he asked. The bird cocked its head to the other side and continued to stare from its spot on the platform.

"Perhaps I'll see you again sometime," said Dave, smiling and turning away to find a seat. The doors closed and the train began to roll away. Dave glanced out the window once more to find his friend still watching. Then suddenly, he disappeared in a flash of fire.

Every bone in Harry's body felt pain as he opened his eyes. Though disoriented, he felt a body in front of him and heard the sound of people talking quickly. He slowly got to his feet and looked at Dave's lifeless body, gazing up at him, a distinct circular burn on his chest, where Voldemort's curse had singed his robes. He panned his gaze over to Voldemort who was spread eagle, on his back, staring up, but not seeing. From somewhere in the room, Harry heard people yelling and turned to see them running up to him, but he paid no attention.

"_Winguardium Leviosa,_" muttered Harry, raising Dave's body from the ground and moving it to rest on the staff table. He then turned and did the same to Pansy, laying her next to Dave. Harry had visited the train station too, but once again, he had survived the killing curse and was given the opportunity to leave on foot, rather than by train.

There would be a Muggle funeral for Dave, but those present wanted to pay their respects to him first, before sending back to the world from which he came.

As Dave and Pansy lay side by side, one by one, those present who had known him came up and said goodbye. Ginny, Dave's best teacher and friend before he turned to the darkness was last. Once she stepped down from the dais, there was a surge of heat and Dave and Pansy were engulfed in flame. Smoke billowed from the fire and a white, smoky phoenix rose joyfully into the air, dissipating against the enchanted ceiling. When the flames ceased, a white marble tomb materialized around their bodies.

People would talk about Dave for many years after. They would say he was a misguided kid, tainted by power. They would also mention his final act of heroism, saying, "He turned out alright in the end."

Later that night, when the Great Hall was dark, and everyone had left to tend to the wounded. A little bird unburied itself from a pile of ash and hopped up to the marble tomb. It flapped its wings, giving it just enough of a push to jump on top, and it walked over to the center. It gazed down at the tomb, which was emblazoned with a crest: a shield depicting a crowned phoenix, flanked by a lantern on each side. A banner upon the crest read the words: _Rex Phoenicus_.

It cocked its head to the side and stared down at the symbol, as if studying it. It then bent down and tapped the shield three times before spreading its wings, and flying out of the Great Hall.

Fawkes wandered the world aimlessly for fifteen years before his heart led him to the small town of Godric's Hollow. Happy to have reached his destination, and greeted by a cool autumn breeze, he landed on a branch of a tree and looked through the window of the closest house. A man with glasses and messy black hair was playing with a girl, maybe nine years of age. A shorter, red-haired woman stood by watching, with a smile on her face.

The girl noticed Fawkes and came to the window. Fawkes hopped onto the windowsill and stared back at her, his head cocked to the side. The two made eye contact for a brief moment. After a second, Fawkes tapped the glass with his beak three times, and abruptly disappeared in a flash of fire.


End file.
